A mis cuarenta y diez [English translation]

In my forty tens,

They say I look like I'm forty nine

Earlier than after,

I'll face the delicate moment

Of thinking of going home,

Settling down

And dictate my will

(sorry for the sadness)

For my intimates,

Damned to an ungrateful future

To not suffer what I suffered,

I decided to not give them a dime

Just love rights,

An L-shaped tear in the heart and a sea of doubts

To the condition of not being sold,

in el Rastro by my widows

And when, to my Rocío

Her soul stings and the chicken pox passes

And a red shiver

Indicates the puberty of my Carmela

You'll have a bad example, a hulla hop

and a barking D'Artacan

for every kiss negotiated

with your boastful father

But without hurries, cause I've never

Been fond of the requiem masses

That the wooden suit that I'll wear

Isn't even planted yet

That the priest who will give me the last rites

Isn't an altar boy yet

That for being commercial, this song

Needs a good chorus

Since I date with the pale lady

I'm deader than alive

But sleeping the endless sleep in her bed

Seems excessive for me

The thing is that I never gave up in searching

In open lips

They day there are some kinds of kisses

That when they give it, they resurrect the dead

And if you come to visit me in my grave

On my birthday

And I don't answer, wait in the hall

Until I'm back from the bathroom

Who could worry

After dead, that one has his vices?

On the judgement day

Maybe God will be my public defender

But without hurries, cause I've never

Been fond of the requiem masses

That the wooden suit that I'll wear

Isn't even planted yet

That the priest who will give me the last rites

Isn't an altar boy yet

That for being commercial, this song

Needs a good chorus

• Artist:Joaquin Sabina
• Album:19 Días y 500 Noches (1999)