To enter bars where everyone knows my name
Unlike the whisky go
Where waitresses
Bill the drunken at their
Leisure
And the dance floor buoys
With silicon
To see the children’s flags
Upon a soccer win
After those 50 barren years
That is the sight
Of happiness
The uruguayan
Dressed in their autumn colors
All year long
And if they changed
To fit the fashions of the world
I wouldn’t recognize them
As my kin
The uruguayan
Who let their princes
Die of hunger
After they hone
The most beautiful song
Mama vieja
Caracol
The love goes on