The blue night,
melancholy of the days of a february that is gone,
hanging a tulle,
in the wardrobe of the lost yesterday;
prisioner photos in the bottom of a trunk,
my endless cross: the blue night.
In the truck,
the chorus, cliché of an old pericón 1
the counter,
with the poison of the evil liquor.
Handsomes and bandits under a code of honor;
my heart, in the truck.
I'm the oriental murguero,
the suburb singer
of the street, who dreamed
a god of sackcloth and paper
who made me born murguero
murguero and oriental. 2
Time changes the stage
and only remains a map in extinction
looking for a legendary chorus
in the deep dream of a lion.
The wonder of a legacy
singing in proclamation yells,
the lights of the stage,
and the sacred fire carrying a song
that resurrects and says:
I'm the oriental murguero,
the suburb singer
of the street, who dreamed
a god of sackcloth and paper
who made me born murguero
murguero and oriental.
The blue night,
melancholy of the days of a february that is gone,
hanging a tulle,
in the wardrobe of the lost yesterday;
prisioner photos in the bottom of a trunk,
my endless cross: the blue night.
In the truck,
the chorus, cliché of an old pericón
the counter,
with the poison of the evil liquor.
Handsomes and bandits under a code of honor;
my heart, in the truck.
I'm the oriental murguero,
the suburb singer
of the street, who dreamed
a god of sackcloth and paper
who made me born murguero
murguero and oriental.
I'm the oriental murguero,
the suburb singer
of the street, who dreamed
a god of sackcloth and paper
who made me born murguero
murguero and oriental.
1. An old traditional dance2. Someone who sings murga and is uruguayan