Er Tio Der Saco
Poncho K
He's the Uncle of the Bag
Goat that goes to the mountain, don't bring her down to the plain
to feel like a good vassal
because the uncle of the bag will come
loaded with joints and cocaine
to tell you what he does with the naughty kids,
I have already loaded my bag
with hard bread for the ducks.
And what?
And of lineage
that overflows with talent
and delights those who don't measure up,
and of fleece I calculate and aim without hesitation,
and my voice trembles in the air when I speak with meaning
and I address those who exclude
as if I have to fight the copper
with Christ's communion.
Razed villages where they didn't have time
to build a walled dream of misfortune,
unbridled villages without anthology or struggle
of the lost hand of gods and men.
I open up because I have a meeting with myself
in the hall of I don't know where or why,
and for what?
I get worked up in a speech without beginnings or endings
for a bad day
to wake up in the farmhouse
