Carguen, Apunten, Fuego

When there's nothing left better than the rain
And entering any bar and ordering a Martini
And leaving without paying
And hating the couples coming out of the cinemas

Seven in the evening, I wish I were drunk
It's been two weeks since Lucia wrote to me
It keeps raining, bartender another drink
With alcohol, the monkey of military service is less

The captain talks to us about love for the homeland
The sergeant about order and discipline
The soldiers doze off, counting the days left
Or fill their bellies with wine in the canteen

Their mothers send them packages with chorizo
Salami, cold cuts
Their girlfriends long letters, painted hearts
Drawn, drawn

The city is hostile and strange to them when they go out
And the maids no longer want anything to do with soldiers
The poor consolation remains of occasionally
Increasing the clientele of a brothel

And spending half an hour in rushed love
With that fat woman who gives discounts to recruits
And on Monday again, as always my lieutenant
Is absolutely right, of course, certainly

On the ground, salute, about turn, forward
Attention, halt, at ease, load, aim, fire