Sin Pique

The fine harvest is coming,
after a shearing that left little,
and I'm on my way to the ranch,
hungry and eager to see the boss.

I have no money, and to top it off
my shoulders can't handle so much work.

I think about my ranch,
and I see that the carancho is starting to circle.

I have no cows or pigs, and the jerky
on the hook stopped hanging.
Ave Maria, where is the boss,
Ave Maria, not even a dog came out.

I remember the garlic soup,
I chew on a card and slowly I go.

For fear that the rich man gets angry,
my tongue shrinks, what a coward I am.

How much the memory grows,
if my soul can't take it anymore to have it,
I see myself with a horn in the ground,
without a lasso in the herd, without a colt to tame.

To top it off, there's no sting in the rake,
the crow complains, the cow gives more.
The tail is covered with fat,
the belly is a sponge, just for the wind.

Hunger shrinks the ranches,
and the sound of stomachs becomes popular.
Ave Maria, where is the boss,
Ave Maria, not even a dog came out.

I remember the garlic soup,
I chew on a card and slowly I go.

For fear that the rich man gets angry,
my tongue shrinks, what a coward I am.
For fear that the rich man gets angry,
my tongue shrinks, what a coward I am...