Europa
Arbolito Lyrics


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Quien dijo que la cultura no tiene olor?
Quien dijo que tu progreso no esta podrido?
Bajo tus uñas la sangre,
La historia gritando
Mentira o verdad

Acaso se te ha ocurrido pedir perdón
Menos se te ocurrió devolver un peso
Guarda que el indio despierta
Y las deudas son deudas
Acá o en tus bancos de mierda!

La gorda en su cuna creció vigorosa
Masticando tripas de México y Bolivia
Desarrollando lenguas, artes, ciencias, amores
Un trampolín sin freno a las cumbres humanas

Pintan tus pintores,
Suena tu música fina,
Siguen creciendo sanitos, tus niños tu niñas
Europa y tu siguiente de choreo y de muerte
La belleza de los vencidos
Aun pudre tu frente...

Quien dijo que la cultura no tiene olor
Huele a Toba mutilado casi que descuartizado
Negro secuestrado muriendo a latigazos
Hospitales saturados
Corren ríos infectados
Pibes que no lleguen a ver
Ni un puto carnaval

Pintan tus pintores,
Suena tu música fina,
Siguen creciendo sanitos, tus niños tu niñas
Europa y tu siguiente de choreo y de muerte




La belleza de los vencidos
Aun pudre tu frente...

Overall Meaning

In Arbolito's powerful song "Europa," the lyrics decry the hypocrisy and violence that lie beneath the surface of European culture and progress. The opening lines challenge the idea that culture has no scent and that progress is not rotten. The imagery of blood under fingernails and the screaming of history suggest a hidden violence and a whitewashing of past atrocities. The question of whether what we are told is true or not is left open-ended, inviting further thought about the real motivations behind European cultural dominance.


The second verse unapologetically points out the destructive legacy of European colonialism upon indigenous peoples, such as Latin America. The addressing of the white viewer makes it clear that Europe has been benefiting from the exploitation of native peoples, rather than promoting the idea of equality and respect. It warns that the debt will be paid back somehow - whether in their banks of shit or in the awakening of the indigenous people. The striking imagery of the gorda (fat lady) insinuates the opulence and affluence of Europe built upon the pile of dead and repressed natives. Despite its achievements, the "beauty of the conquered" continues to haunt the European conscience.


The chorus of the song emphasizes the gap between the image of a cultured and refined Europe and the harsh reality of its past and present. The contrasting images of Europe's artists and music with the suffering and pollution of the third world create a jarring effect to the listener. Ultimately, the lyrics of "Europa" brings to light the underlying themes of exploitation, suffering, and dishonest historical revisionism that continue to be part of European culture.


Line by Line Meaning

Quien dijo que la cultura no tiene olor?
Who said that culture has no smell?


Quien dijo que tu progreso no esta podrido?
Who said your progress is not rotten?


Bajo tus uñas la sangre,
Under your nails is blood,


La historia gritando
History screaming


Mentira o verdad
Lie or truth


Acaso se te ha ocurrido pedir perdón
Have you thought about apologizing?


Menos se te ocurrió devolver un peso
Less did you think of returning a peso


Guarda que el indio despierta
Watch out, the Indian awakens


Y las deudas son deudas
And debts are debts


Acá o en tus bancos de mierda!
Here or in your shitty banks!


La gorda en su cuna creció vigorosa
The fat one grew vigorously in her cradle


Masticando tripas de México y Bolivia
Chewing on the guts of Mexico and Bolivia


Desarrollando lenguas, artes, ciencias, amores
Developing languages, arts, sciences, loves


Un trampolín sin freno a las cumbres humanas
A brakeless springboard to human summits


Pintan tus pintores,
Your painters paint


Suena tu música fina,
Your fine music plays


Siguen creciendo sanitos, tus niños tu niñas
Your boys and girls continue to grow healthy


Europa y tu siguiente de choreo y de muerte
Europe and your following of theft and death


La belleza de los vencidos
The beauty of the defeated


Aun pudre tu frente...
Still rotting your face...


Huele a Toba mutilado casi que descuartizado
It smells of Toba, mutilated and almost quartered


Negro secuestrado muriendo a latigazos
Kidnapped black man dying from lashings


Hospitales saturados
Overcrowded hospitals


Corren ríos infectados
Infected rivers flow


Pibes que no lleguen a ver
Kids who will not live to see


Ni un puto carnaval
Not even one damn carnival




Contributed by Stella I. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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Comments from YouTube:

@leonardoromano7169

Tremenda letra resume mas de 500 años de historia!!!! Que sigue viva. Gracias simplemente Gracias!!!

@analialopez8317

Muchos años después de haberlos descubierto encontrarlo completo es lo más!!!!

@gollolocura

Canta el Chizzo!!!!! Chizzo corazón!!!!

@maximilianobaez6506

me encanta como piensan y la música que hacen...

@leansafar1789

Vigente escuches cuando lo escuches

@valen6590

Leonora sos hippie admitilo

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