They count the writings of the false prophets
but they never prevented them from these poets
these opportunists of poor memory
populist gallants, leftovers
Bugs that grow tall as a vine
and thus they are entangling fashion, song and currency
intellectualizing the distinguished staff
of the fifteen year old and compulsive buyer
There will be some who will say half the truth of this case
There will be someone who wants to look the other way
So goes the game, and who cares
the kingdom of the blind with its king, Arjona
To throw the pencil and start the fight
There are as many arguments as there will be listeners
but the best thermometer of dexterity
will never be the monster of the thousand heads
The south also exists and by Serrat sung
it will not be necessary to get confused or follow
So goes the game, and who cares
the kingdom of the blind with its king, Arjona
the kingdom of the blind with its king, Arjona.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)