Milonga Del Consorcio

I was born in a tenement
On Olavarría street

On Olavarría street

Then I moved to a consortium
To appear in the directory
If you knew, my dear mother
What a pigeon coop my life is
Meetings every day
For hot or cold water
A committee was formed
To argue at the entrance

There's a red carpet
On Saturdays and Sundays
The administrator is a foreigner
Who never shows his face
Rubber trees, plants, and flowerpots

Rubber trees, plants, flowerpots
The 'and' doesn't exist

Clotheslines and hanging clothes
And a Pekingese dog
That barks in the early morning
At the parrot on the third floor
Who whistles a tune

You have to tip the doorman
So that the supplies can come in
The grocery store, the milkman
Also the dry cleaner
The pipes break
There's dampness on the wall
The boiler, the elevator
They haven't worked for a month
And the doorman calls a guy
Who is a technician in who knows what

To appear in the directory
I moved from Olavarría

I moved from Olavarría

To a street off the beaten path
I left the old tenement
I traded a balcony for a loft
All to give myself airs
You see, brother, why
I would go back again
To my old tenement
On Olavarría street

On Olavarría street