La Calle Lyrics in English Juan Luis Guerra , Juanes

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Below, I translated the lyrics of the song La Calle by Juan Luis Guerra from Spanish to English.

You told me that the morning

Was bought with a kiss

And that war was for sale

And that peace had its price

That politics dresses

In gold, silver, and fine linen, woy-oh-oy

And what comes out of the mouth

Pays tax in the ear

That every day the road is narrower

Oh, that the street is rough

That the street is rough

Oh, that whoever doesn't run flies

That whoever doesn't run flies

Oh, that the moon drifts away

That the moon drifts away

Oh, I ask myself and I meditate

What is the square root of myself?

You told me that the lie

Wore contact lenses

And that a Valentino shoe

Declared itself cheap

That a tariff fell in love

With a taxpayer in the free zone, yere-rere-re

That anesthesia went to London

To a tourism congress

That every day brings its hustle, and I explain to you

Oh, that the street is rough

That the street is rough

Oh, that whoever doesn't run flies

That whoever doesn't run flies

Oh, that the moon drifts away

That the moon drifts away

Oh, I ask myself and I meditate

What is the square root of myself?

Bring it down

And that there's no favoritism with coffee

The one who brews first is the one who will drink

That Tchaikovsky was Russian and Debussy French

When the river sounds, it's that it brings water, I know

That the clubs are trenches of the societé

Where seven fit, twenty-three fit

That the night looks good for Star Trek

Hey, man, don't play with that

Oh, that the street is rough

That the street is rough

Oh, that whoever doesn't run flies

That whoever doesn't run flies

Oh, that the moon drifts away

That the moon drifts away

Oh, I ask myself and I meditate

What is the square root of myself?

Love somebody

Need somebody

Love somebody

Need somebody

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SONG MEANING

Juan Luis Guerra teams up with Colombian rocker Juanes to turn the bustling calle – the street – into a musical newsroom. Through playful metaphors and tongue-in-cheek one-liners, they report how kisses can buy mornings, lies wear contact lenses, and taxes flirt at the free-trade zone. Beneath the humor beats a serious headline: politics is dressed in luxury while everyday life keeps getting narrower, tougher, faster. The chorus sums it up with a Caribeño shrug and a bit of urgency: “La calle está dura… el que no corre vuela.”

The song is a lively check-up on society and on ourselves. Between references to Tchaikovsky, Valentino shoes, and sci-fi nights, the singers remind us that clichés, favoritism, and hollow promises crowd our daily walk. Yet the final question – “¿Cuál es la raíz cuadrada de mí mismo?” – flips the camera inward, inviting listeners to search for their own square root, their true essence, amid the street noise. It is social critique wrapped in merengue-rock joy, leaving you dancing while you rethink your place in the world.

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Juan Luis Guerra La Calle Lyrics