And I will just read this one to lighten the mood a little bit.
It's a new one, and all you have to know
is that Los Temerarios were like a popular Mexican band in 1999.
And that in El Salvador I didn't grow up even
knowing what peanut butter was.
"Peanut Butter, USA".
I'm forced to eat an impossibility, brown substance
from another planet, a distant galaxy recipe.
It's Mom's mission to Americanize me
with NSYNC albums she buys for herself,
but I know what she's up to.
I had never heard of them or Britney Spears.
Through Mexico, at every cantina, every motel,
it was Los Temerarios.
It's Mom's mission to Americanize me.
The kids at our apartment complex don't like me.
They laugh when after work Moms blasts
"Hit Me Baby One More Time".
In Mexico, it's Los Temerarios at every cantina,
but this thing, this peanut butter business.
Other kids laugh when Mom blasts "Hit Me Baby".
Of all gringo things, peanut butter makes me happiest.
Why didn't mom take some jars when she picked me up
from the border?
Of all things, it makes me happiest.
It would have made things easier, so much easier.
Why didn't she take some?
That brown, brown substance from another planet
would have thickened my mouth with so much laughter.