Los perros tristes

There by the dumpster
of the cosmopolitans,
there's a lost city
in the medieval era.

There's no pavement,
nor cement houses,
the wind steals
the cardboard that was a home.

The ground is like dust
that gets into the pores,
infernal summers
can kill them,
but there's always a 'genius' politician
who says that in Cancun
it's just as hot...
What an animal! ...

He must feed so fat;
and here only skinny rats
and cats crying their misfortune...

And the dogs, the dogs, the dogs;
and the dogs, the dogs, the dogs;
and the dogs, the dogs, the dogs
sad, sad, sad...

With colorful cables
hanging from the poles
because televisions
can't be missing.

The bathroom is a danger
it's a hole in the void,
losing balance
could be deadly.

Then when it rains
it turns into a swamp
they navigate on boards
crying for others,
but there's always a 'genius' politician
who says that in Venice
it's very similar...
What an animal! ...

He must feed so fat;
and here only skinny rats
and cats crying their misfortune...

And the dogs, the dogs, the dogs;
and the dogs, the dogs, the dogs;
and the dogs, the dogs, the dogs
sad, sad, sad...

If one day the mailman comes
they better prepare for their burial
because the most likely thing
is that they won't leave here.

Here the streets and thieves
have no name,
they don't even wait for
complete darkness.

Here the police
won't risk their lives
the gangs are the law
for better or for worse,
but there's always a 'genius' politician
who says that in New York
it's the same...
What an animal! ...

He must feed so fat;
and here only skinny rats
and cats crying their misfortune...
What an animal!...

He must feed so fat;
and here only skinny rats
and cats crying their misfortune...

And the dogs, the dogs, the dogs;
and the dogs, the dogs, the dogs;
and the dogs, the dogs, the dogs
sad

And the dogs, the dogs, the dogs;
and the dogs, the dogs, the dogs;
and the dogs, the dogs, the dogs
sad, sad, sad.