La abuela vegana
Ella es una trampa mortal.
Siempre pregunta, indiscreta,
si la piel de mi chaqueta
es sintética o real.
Y yo respondo, ya condenada.
Si no le gusta, no hay paga.
Y, al contrario, si le halaga,
me hincha a ensalada.
Y todo el mundo habla
del cocido de su abuela,
del 'choricico' con habas,
del flan de huevo con canela.
Y la mía es activista,
aboga por la vida sana,
siete mil trescientos cincuenta millones de personas en el planeta
y me toca a mí la abuela vegana.
Siempre pregunta, indiscreta,
si la piel de mi chaqueta
es sintética o real.
Y yo respondo, ya condenada.
Si no le gusta, no hay paga.
Y, al contrario, si le halaga,
me hincha a ensalada.
Y todo el mundo habla
del cocido de su abuela,
del 'choricico' con habas,
del flan de huevo con canela.
Y la mía es activista,
aboga por la vida sana,
siete mil trescientos cincuenta millones de personas en el planeta
y me toca a mí la abuela vegana.
Credits
Writer(s): Flora Dewitt
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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