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And a corridon, composition
From my friend Tamarindo
And from a server
It's called "The Tire Swing"
And get out of here old man
With an imperial flower
Gabino whitewashed Benja
Benja was already drunk
And although they had no bet
He stood in a bad mood
And I even kicked the table
Gabino being saner
He told him to stay calm
No tolerance is offensive
Much less in my house
I was reviewing the scene
From The Tire Swing
The devil was drunk
And that's not a very good mix.
Some handles shone
At Benja's waist
And with three detonations
That tool got stuck
like a photograph
I have that bad memory
I felt like I was leaving
Innocence in the moment
And Benja, as if nothing
To finish it I kick the dog
And when the devil is drunk
Everything goes wrong
Everything goes wrong son
With a lump in the throat
Open the old man's body
Without being able to find calm
The feeling won me
Stunned by thunder
My blood is already burning
With barely 13
I already felt like a little man
I already knew how to hold a gun
Callo had on the trigger
I saw oil in the car
From Gabino's super
I encouraged myself, and to go to the town
I borrowed a horse
Arrive in minutes
Seven to be exact
And at a game table
There I twisted Benja betting
Don't use any words
Just claim with fire
Hammer seven pieces of rubble
And I told him smiling
Uncle Benja was already his turn
Imperial flower wins game
This super doesn't lock
The ones left over for the dog
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