Huesos Blandos, Carnes Duras
Los Rebeldes
Soft Bones, Hard Flesh
Soft bones, hard flesh,
Fifteen years, what a sweetness.
Soft bones, hard flesh,
Fifteen years, what madness.
Behind their mothers' backs, they start to paint up,
They hit the streets instead of hitting the books,
Strutting their stuff around the town,
Young girls ready to play around.
Soft bones, hard flesh,
Fifteen years, what madness.
They go out dancing and lie about their age,
Laughter and touches in the dark,
They mock the boys who want something more,
You can look but you can't touch.
Soft bones, hard flesh,
Fifteen years, what sweetness.
Forbidden fruit about to ripen,
They live life to the fullest,
They want the world and they want it now,
As if tomorrow everything's gonna end.
Soft bones, hard flesh,
Fifteen years, what madness.
Soft bones, hard flesh.