Guitarra de Los Boliches

Little guitar of the dive bar
Singer of the bar
With your six worn strings
And the fourth one about to break
Your passionate singer
Between drinks and applause
Turns his hand into an orchestra
Directed by his thumb

If those who know knew
The wages you've fought for
Night after night on the stages
Of the bar and the tavern
Dawn arrives
With the bar crowd
The end of the night gets longer
For those heading towards the end

And there goes the old guitar player
With his guitar girlfriend under his arm
Strolling south through the downtown streets
Black hat smoking his cigarette
And there he goes dreaming that someday
He will be given what others have been given
For him, the years and time have not passed
And the long-awaited day will come

When dawn stretches
Its tiredness from cigarettes
With the goodbye of the last drink
The end is near
In the old broken case
The singer makes your bed
And singing a lullaby
They head to the boarding house

Guitar of the poor
Singers who never make it
But risk their lives
Just to sing
Hopefully your tuning pegs
Where there's always a rose
Won't reject those who don't enjoy
The privilege of tuning