Milonga pra "Loco"

When I feel like a milonga
My soul points to the things
All that decorate the flowerbeds
And I go on for nothing
Singing, laughing
At this comedy of tricksters...
I'm walking a bit fast
Tuning the tone of the chat
According to the taste of the crowd
One day I'll go back home
With the talk of someone who notices
The neighbor where I pass
The sorrow is the cloak of loneliness
Whoever thinks otherwise
With that dumb look
Tell them no!

How about picking up the joy
Of writing like a madman
Clinging to the guitar...
Doing any kind of mischief
With this stubborn habit
Of filling the shed with chatter
Whenever I can
I shake my leg, scratch myself
And soak the words with sweat
But when I look around
I hate those who cover the cat
Oblivious to their herd...
Life is our craving
Whoever thinks otherwise
With that same dumb look
Tell them no!
We're all cut from the same cloth
Breaking some plates
Throwing wood on some stuff
I might walk differently
Away from my people
But I play everything I like...
My mate is in the flourish
Where any milonguero
Bleeds from the tips of their fingers...
Killing it hard on the side
With the fatty meat of the roast
Smoking the hides...
In this milonga for the crazy
I talk about a little bit of everything
And I don't care if others
Laugh at me!