El Aire De La Calle

I wake up early and start working
With my guitar in hand, I never stop singing
They call me the barefoot because in winter I wear flip-flops
I do it to feel the freshness of the morning
All day in the street, in the square, taking in the air
I'm a bohemian of life, I have nothing to do
With the lordly mustaches that stroll through Jerez
I have no obligations, I have nothing else to see
The puddles in the square when it stops raining
The colorful days in the square smoking flowers

The street air smells like fresh rubber to me

I assume it, I smoke it and escape down the hill
I love you, I love you like pears to dogs
I love you, I love you when I lose you and when I win you

Pants without pockets but the threads don't get bitter
I sing to you in the alameda of the bench, I sing to you in the long street
I can sing you a fandango or sing to you about Triana
I just want forty bucks to sleep in a bed
I don't want love, I'm a vagabond and a lover of the night

The street air smells like fresh rubber to me
I assume it, I smoke it and escape down the hill
What a shame, look what a shame, that my lighter has no flint
If only, if only I could paint scents in the sand

Black poison, I have in my blood
And on my arms, I have five tattoos
I never cry because I live in carnivals
I put on the mask and throw myself into the street
And I throw myself into the street, and I throw myself into the street
And I throw myself, into the street