Xafant Fang

We ran like wolves by the river's edge
Dirty faces, lively gestures
Field through, ravines with skateboards
Thistles and puddles and torn pants
Only guests at communions
We sneaked into the church once to snoop around
Son, where are you going? Where have you ended up?
I took a bad tumble

Amparo took care of me when leaving school
When Carmela's work piled up
There was nothing left but to cooperate
Joana always with a prepared dish
Whatever is needed, yeah, mutual support
For all of them: eternal love
10 mothers, 17 siblings, we are the tribe
Raising children collectively

And the matriarchy, alive but hidden
That comes out of the houses
And permeates the whole society
Undoing the mark
Of the power of the white man
Of the sword and the cross and the Christ on the wall
Opening our eyes to the world, laughing and blaspheming
There's no one up there willing to help
Sharing tools, we do it together
Watering the seeds of common ideas

Hands of wolves and wolves
Mucking around, yo
Mucking around
Hands of wolves and wolves
Hands of wolves and wolves
Mucking around, yo
Mucking around

We ran like wolves through the streets and the ravine
From the police station to the train station, through neighborhoods or marshes
It didn't matter, the older brother's clothes
The cousin's bike from the village and sandwiches for everyone
First cross, then look, discipline
Imagination and slang, street medicine
Syringes, huts, fire in the wasteland
My mouth a mess from smoking so much weed

Mom, dad, and six cousins in a Renault 7 at the beach
The relentless sun in the low meadow
Grandma and Aunt Sole cooking for 30
And there was always a little plate
For whoever walked through the door
No gels or suits at the party
No baptisms or liturgies or temples

Full of shit and mud, from asphalt streets
Because empty spaces with gifts never fill up
Voluptuousness, effervescence
The unfathomable mysteries of adolescence
We fled from the present, from the future, and with the law
Military sense and strategy, hey
Discussions on the park bench
One-day contracts at the supermarket
Jobs
Unconditional love
The cost didn't matter, nor the profit margin

Hands of wolves and wolves
Mucking around, yo
Mucking around
Hands of wolves and wolves
Hands of wolves and wolves
Mucking around, yo
Mucking around

Very good
What are we doing here?
Should we stop?
A solo?
Do you want to do a solo?
Go for it, come on
Hector, stop, stop, stop