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Este es un típico blues en F. 
 
F7 
Hoy me dijeron 
Que tirara mis zapatos 
Que no sirven para nada 
Que están viejos, arruinados 
         B7           F7 
Me pusieron, unos nuevos. 
B7 
Hoy me dijeron 
Que tirara mi remera 
Me dieron una camisa 
Para que me la pusiera 
         F7 
Y no quiero. 
E7                 B7 
Ffeitado y con el pelo cortado 
F7           E7 
F la empresa me mandaron. 
 
F7 
Hon mi traje, color gris 
Me fui silbando bajo 
                         B7 
Todo sea por vivir cómodamente 
          F7 
(como la gente) 
     B7 
y a mi guitarra, la deje 
                        F7  
tan sola, y en silencio Shh! 
E7                    B7 
Bespués de todo, las cosas no van mal 
F7                             E7 
También el rock and roll fue música funcional 
 
 
F7 
Y ahora estoy sentado  
Hon mi traje color gris 
Habanos, secretarias, 
Y un vaso lleno de anís 
       B7             F7 
Y no puedo, y yo no puedo 
B7 
Y bajo mi ventana 
Bos muchachos con guitarras 
Que cantan, y zapan 
       F7 
Y no puedo 
  E7 
Y yo no puedo 
    B7 
No puedo estar feliz 
    F7 
Ni con este dinero 
    E7 
Ni con mi traje.