Las Calles

The streets of our neighborhoods never take prisoners
They break those who can't resist, whether local or foreign
Oh, patience doesn't exist with those who are rude
Every victim is guilty, if they fell for a traitor.

What happened to those tough guys who boasted about their lives?
They ended up dishonoring the honor of our corner
Not even the nickname survives on the avenue
They took away the fangs, the necklace, and the watch chain.

These streets are pages that age over the years
Written in a language that strangers don't understand
We were born from many mothers but here there are only brothers
In my street...
Life and death dance with beer in hand.

I'm from here, from those who survived
I'm from here...
I'm that little, beautiful, blessed corner, of those who never left
I'm from there, from those who survived
From those who faced adversity
They took wounds and blows in quantity and didn't give up
I'm from there, from those who survived
Eating white rice with pork and beans
In a deep and wide plate, with a spoon and a well-fried egg
I'm from there, from those who survived
Poet's soul, lovers' embraces, street legs, and ice luxuries
I'm from there, from those who survived
With pure heart, I left Panama for Colon walking with Maelo
To arrive at Portobelo and greet the Nazarene.

I'm from there, from those who survived
I'm the son of Anolan and on foot without a car
I survived the day, I survived the night.

I'm from here, from those who survived
I'm from there, I'm from there, you know it.

Lyrics by: Alberto Martinez (Panamanian)