Lyrics of 'Tango Del Quinielista' by Joaquín Sabina

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Esta es la historia de un hombre cualquiera
Que una tarde marchita de domingo
Pegado al transistor, sufre y espera
A que den el resultado del partido
Suena un tango que aflora
Entre las equis, los unos y los doses traicioneros
Del equipo local
Que con más clase sin embargo ha perdido
Demoliendo tanta terca ilusión
Dinamitando tantas torres de naipes, tantos sueños
Del quinielista pobre que tendrá
Que volver a la fabrica de nuevo
El lunes a las ocho
Como cada semana renunciando
De momento, a la entrada del piso y a la boda
Por culpa de un balón y de un portero
De un penalti cabrón y de un defensa
Por culpa de un maldito delantero
Desengaños, que asaltan las murallas del invierno
Cuando se va la tarde del domingo y no le queda al hombre
Más consuelo que esperar el vaivén de la fortuna
Rescatar del baúl el traje nuevo
Ir con la novia al cine donde explora
Con inútil pasión sus blandos senos
Y mientras Marlon Brando en la pantalla baila un tango en París
Vuelve el recuerdo del arbitro traidor
¿Cómo es posible que un penalti desaga tantos sueños?
Y a las ocho
Se acostarán por fin en aquel viejo cuartucho de pensión
La misma cama de la manta amarilla
El mismo miedo a manchar el colchón
Donde abandonan arrugados los últimos esfuerzos
De la tarde marchita de domingo
Que abre la oscura puerta del silencio
Como una mano blanda y taciturna
Cuando los verdes dedos del invierno
Hayan ido cerrándose cansados
Sucios, ajados, turbios, polvorientos
Hasta llenar de frío las papeleras
Donde agoniza el corazón
Del tiempo

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It's important to note that Joaquín Sabina, in live concerts, has not always been or will be faithful to the lyrics of the song Tango Del Quinielista... So it's better to focus on what the song Tango Del Quinielista says on the record.