We have our moments.

There are moments in life, little ones
those moments that our flesh becomes immune
maybe it has to do with the unnecessary traffic jams
the shitty beer sold in colmados 
or that distinct feeling that nothing will ever change here. 

Oh those moments. 
Yes, that moment. 
The one that occurs when we look out the window
when we take a breather and contemplate our dirty streets
our dirty people, our dirty costumes and our impeccable moral.

We have this moments. All of us. 
And we keep going
we keep filling the bars, eating cold fried food
throwing baseballs around and picking on the weak,
we keep hitting on the same woman
running back home to a hot plate of rice
and contemplating a new bank loan. 

Yes we do. We have our moments. 
So we run the red lights and throw bottles on the streets,
curse each other out for no good reason and dance to the same songs,
we trash the poor and applaud the assholes
we love the preach and sound like moguls.

We have our moments. 
We do.
But we be alright. 
We don't care.
We live in Quisqueya la Bella. 
It's all good here.