Anima Latina

He comes tumbling down
From the tin roofs
Lingering on the writing
Drink Coca Cola
It comes down from the living nativity scenes
As soon as evening comes
When music and misery
They become one thing

The joy of life
Life inside the eyes
Of malnourished children
Cheerfully poorly dressed
That no powerful detergent
It may have really faded

And runs on the Atlantic beaches
Following the kick of a ball
To end up in the womb
Of big old mothers
Brown skinned
And it stirs in the blood of the people
Invigorated by songs and laughter
That no force, however powerful
It may have really bent