Tambalea

What I really love is the tropical vibe,
I'm not worth a damn without a cold beer...

Give me that minute and stagger, the girl wants a party, someone bullfights,
look for her in the air, in that dizzying one, dry her lips, and that, that heats up, not worth a dime, worth just, feel it out. A thousand bucks for you to believe me, that I get close, fights on the back, and you gasp, jelly, gasp. How she moves it, fights on the back, gasp, jelly, gasp...

What I really love is the tropical vibe, and a little candle in the open field, and sleeping after dinner, and getting the hots at any party. I've been studying since I was a girl the career of the one in charge: sitting down, I take notes. She doesn't plan, she doesn't feel it out, a woman of her house does her chores, she doesn't nag, she just talks, if she cries she bellows, if she wants she yearns. Each one on their own path, little by little manners are lost, but who doesn't screw around? Mine is in the air, fluttering.

Are you leaving me? You know little... if I say this is this, not the other, I don't get worked up over a soaked mint leaf, I touch everything like it's gold by the kilo.

I just need a little bit of rope, my tangle lets itself unravel, I don't always want more, sometimes I want less, but oh well... I dream that I could do it wrong but I do it right, and I know it, my role, that's fine, and the well-done meat, who enjoys dates better than me, left, right, I move, the arrows move, and who prays for me?