La Iaia
Sangtraït
The Grandma
A grandma gets on the bus,
Wearing sneakers, a lilac tracksuit, and a tattoo on her butt,
Long nails, leather jacket,
Pins on her ear and four dots on her eyebrow.
She smokes and always dances rock'n'roll,
Thinks life is long
And one day is not enough for anything.
She never stays quiet, drinks Scotch whiskey,
At night she goes out partying with her grandson's gang.
Muttering between her teeth, making gestures,
In her hand, papers written, they are verses.
Her 'boyfriend' gets on, an old long-haired man,
His hair like white wool
And his blue eyes are southern seas.
They sit together, two bodies become one,
Tongue deep down to the 'throat',
The seats already smoking.
And suddenly the bus starts,
The rock'n'roll is over, everything changes.
Muttering between her teeth, making gestures,
Two guns in their hands and the verses.
On the route to hell we are taken.
Bandits from another time. It's over.
