Faces with tits, glances, perretas And men stuck in Yoruchi I hear, give me, I want and you don't meddle Did you like the new pantoluchi? The blonde, crazy, tanned, bored Tells me, why did you shave? And I, for the disgust it gives Your society, for today's hair How much did you spend? Oh my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my A little euro, with the little accent He wants to be the bad guy He opens his mouth, he fixes his hair He takes a drink and goes back to Belgrano I go, towards the door And then, to Boliche, to the corner To have a few scotch With gestures, jeans, us So it is Argentina Oh my, my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my Oh my, my, my, my, my Una noche en New York City