La Roncha

Heat
Scorching
Ground
Packed tight

The afternoon
Burns in their hands
Dry
And passionate

Cry
Of a song
Nostalgia
Out of tune

The sky
Ambassador
The guitar's strings are raspy, from a distance

Brunette
Goddess siren
Light
Sways her hips

Watermelons
Red and juicy
Everything here is cheap, life doesn’t cost a thing

Party is the poison, it’s in her skin
They swarm like flies to the honey
In this vision, there’s no tomorrow
How the future fades away

Fever, fever, fever, fever
Fever, fever, fever, fever
Fever, fever, fever, fever
Fever, fever, fever, fever
Fever, fever, fever, fever
Fever, fever, fever, fever