Me pica

It itches a lot, it itches me
and the more I scratch, the more it itches me.
Hatching and studying, in the afternoon reviewing
among books and notebooks, I can't explain what I feel.
It's an itch, it's a pain, a stinging, something worse,
run, run and it runs through me,
it runs through me, it runs through me.

I catch you, I catch you
'The Lord of the Rings'
catches by the shore,
the skirts of those girls.
What a girl, what a woman,
David Beckham's wife,
the Padrón peppers,
some are spicy and others not.

It itches a lot, it itches me
and the more I scratch, the more it itches me.
All day with the Play
even if you're a bit gay
even if it's small
I prefer a Caliqueño.

I skip that
and the 'not fucking' stuff
I prefer to be Casillas
and advertise a custard.
My father gets angry,
when Spain loses
he turns off the TV and goes to bed.

I'm going to the bathroom
something has hurt me
I don't know why the hell
the worms itch me.
It itches a lot, it itches me
and the more I scratch, the more it itches me.
Hey friends, to trip like cucumbers?