El Hombre De La Calle
Joan Manuel Serrat
The Man of the Street
To this little man who does everything right, who always walks, who always walks, to this little man who can't do anything, I will call him from now on the man of the street. He never wakes up late, shaves very well -left sideburn, left sideburn-, has a small breakfast, because he has no more; look how well he does it, the man of the street. He takes out a cigarette, oh no!, he doesn't have one, when he smokes it's on the house, when he smokes it's on the house: his friends, if they see him, act distracted... you'll smoke very little, man of the street. Takes the elevator down, oh no!, he doesn't have one, walks fast, walks fast, on the landing below, he meets Roser, you blush, man of the street. His wife doesn't know, oh no!, he doesn't have one, what a bad thought!, what a bad thought!, she died, he doesn't even know what of; that's a sin, man of the street. Opens his little car, oh no!, he doesn't have one; he doesn't have a penny, he doesn't have a penny, he doesn't want to change his last bill... what a situation, man of the street. He walks to work, that he has; he would want much less, he would want much less, if there's no money, there's no Roser... you're in a tough spot, man of the street. His head hurts, oh no!, he doesn't have one; he had it before, he had it before; one day he lost it and never found it again... you have nothing at all, man of the street.