A Veces De Carabana
Viejas Locas
Sometimes On The Road
With the boys I go walking,
I notice the shame that guy gives,
when we reach the avenue,
I feel a well-registered lung,
my customs of being who I am are not there,
and my words are consumed when I speak,
only in my life do I see myself abnormal,
why is that.
leaving my house,
nerves overwhelm me,
sometimes those spoiled brats,
push me aside.
on the road with the kids not knowing where we're going,
the streets are dark, at least in this neighborhood,
the usual drunk is at the top,
we mess with him,
but we don't kill him like the state does
