Papá cuéntame otra vez ese cuento tan bonito
De gendarmes y fascistas, y estudiantes con flequillo
Y dulce guerrilla urbana en pantalones de campana
Y canciones de los Rolling, y niñas en minifalda

Papá cuéntame otra vez todo lo que os divertisteis
Estropeando la vejez a oxidados dictadores
Y cómo cantaste Al Vent y ocupasteis la Sorbona
En aquel mayo francés en los días de vino y rosas

Papá cuéntame otra vez esa historia tan bonita
De aquel guerrillero loco que mataron en Bolivia
Y cuyo fusil ya nadie se atrevió a tomar de nuevo
Y como desde aquel día todo parece más feo

Papá cuéntame otra vez que tras tanta barricada
Y tras tanto puño en alto y tanta sangre derramada
Al final de la partida no pudisteis hacer nada
Y bajo los adoquines no había arena de playa

Fue muy dura la derrota, todo lo que se soñaba
Se pudrió en los rincones, se cubrió de telarañas
Y ya nadie canta Al Vent, ya no hay locos ya no hay parias
Pero tiene que llover aún sigue sucia la plaza

Queda lejos aquel mayo, queda lejos Saint Denis
Que lejos queda Jean Paul Sartre, muy lejos aquel París
Sin embargo a veces pienso que al final todo dio igual
Las ostias siguen cayendo sobre quien habla de más

Y siguen los mismos muertos podridos de crueldad
Ahora mueren en Bosnia los que morían en Vietnam
Ahora mueren en Bosnia los que morían en Vietnam
Ahora mueren en Bosnia los que morían en Vietnam

Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

Papá, Cuéntame Otra Vez [En Directo] Lyrics as written by DANIEL SERRANO MORON, ISMAEL SERRANO MORON

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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