Fugitivos En Hamelín

I'm gonna tell you my story
'cause I'm the mouse
who survived the Titanic
on a ham board.
With a lot of imagination
and the bone I had left,
in one go I made a stew
based on saltwater.

I went with the wind
that took me to Cádiz,
to kill boredom
I was reading the New York Times.
Talking about Wall Street going down,
social chronicles,
the conceited little mouse
won't get married.

I'm neither a saint nor a devil,
nor rich nor a beggar,
why would I need a job
being the king of my hole.
And I'm not interested in cheese at all,
if it's not given for free.
Don't be scared, that's how
us red mice are.

Fugitive in Hamelin,
I saved myself by sheer luck,
I never liked the flute
and even less the tambourine.
I was a library mouse
but I preferred hunger
because in the next class
they always rehearsed the tuna band.

Word of a rodent,
I've seen it, it's not a lie,
the computer mouse
has a cable through its body
that if it doesn't blind it,
it connects to memory.
I don't know the whole story
but me, a mouse like that, not even dead.

God save me from poison
and laboratories,
don't waste your money
on a funeral for me.
I don't care about TV,
I don't care about Warner Brothers,
about messing with Tom the cat,
damn rodents.

To the annoying Martin
and silly Susanita
we, the most streetwise mice,
we formed a riot.
And in Cádiz there's no Tooth Fairy
because he ended up broke:
there are little mice and pleasures
around the corner.