How life goes after failure,
before you were king and today only a clown.
where are your pretty girls, where are the bars
that held you while you wavered,
with that artist's pose of rubbing,
with that mustache broken by the edge,
with your white Cuban linen suit
that you paid for Italian.
where is rené, where is Isabel,
who has the keys of Raquel's house;
where was the janitor, what is known about him,
who opens the cabaret
where is rené, where is Isabel,
who has the keys of Raquel's house;
where was the janitor, what is known about him,
who opens the cabaret
which of your friends was the friend,
look for it and tell me where it has gotten.
how are you entertaining now that you do not have
cute dolls with a thin smile,
when you imagined yourself banished
to the country of the one-eyed man where you are blind,
nobody looks here because nobody sees,
this is what remains because of your wrong doing.
where is rené, where is Isabel,
who has the keys of Raquel's house;
where was the janitor, what is known about him,
who opens the cabaret
where is rené ...
there is no rené, no isabel,
nobody has the keys of raquel;
there is no beadle, nobody knows about him,
nobody opens the cabaret.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)