Just moved in to a little Mexican village,
my neighbors just started to party at like 2 a.m,
sounds like karaoke again but maybe I’ll just hafta join em’.
My spanish isn’t that good but they still kinda understand,
greeted by the abuela she hands me a plate of food fresh from the land.
She tells me they just butchered the pig yesterday morning,
before she can explain I rip into my cochinita without warning.
Ohew that’s spicy!
The music starts to play as she dances away in search of the coca cola,
before she can return I’m handed 3 beers and a shot of tequila.
I think que chido if this were the US the police would be here,
instead it’s 2 a.m. and I’m eating good food drinkin’ a beer.
A few more beers with the banda we break out the dominos,
it’s more beautiful than the love story of the Mexicali Rose.
We trade wins through the night with the karaoke blaring,
not a single angry neighbor calling the police or glaring.
Lust takes over as a pretty girl walks by no mma wei que bonita,
Ehh que paso Gringo, que loco, es mi sobrina.
Lo siento amigo but she’s muy guapita,
Awwh don’t worry gringo, I’ll introduce ya.
Before I can make a move I hear a rhuckus from inside,
tía got to drunk fell out of her hammock an almost died.
She seems to be okay though as she laughs and takes another beer,
party starts rolling primo gets on mic taking drink orders like an auctioneer.
We sneak away to smoke some weed as we hop in the Volvo,
enjoying the night with a blunt wrapped up he wips out a bag of polvo.
Thanks but it’s not my style too many pastillas these days,
don’t worry though I’ll roll another one up so we can blaze.
Back at the house we roll up as the party starts to slow down,
many headed for their hammocks as we’re the last awake in this little town.
Another plate of food? Don’t mind if I do. Mucho gracias.
I guess I’ll be here a while I’ma just hit repeat on this process.
Political correctness is nothing less than thought control!
(Every time you share this post a feminist shaves her head and a statist gets arrested.)