.Eran las cinco 'e la mañana
Un seminarista, un obrero
Con mil papeles de solvencia
Que no les dan pa' ser sinceros
Eran las siete 'e la mañana
Y uno por uno al matadero
Pues cada cual tiene su precio
Buscando visa para un sueño
(Bairorá laralá)
El sol quemándoles la .
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