[Intro: Basque bertsolari male MC over txalaparta wooden plank percussion] Aupa, hand me any subject and I'll build it on the spot Tonight the subject's you, my friend, so let's see what you got [Verse 1: Basque bertsolari male MC, hard and proud over a heavy kick and txalaparta] In the spring you called my music counterfeit and cheap Said no real one ever made it, said it put your ears to sleep You were perched up on the rooftop with your little copper chest Sayin' east wind is the true wind, and the east wind is the best Then a summer storm came rollin', and the whole town sang along And you creaked around to face it like you'd never called it wrong Ene, you squeak up there, but you never leave the pole With four letters underneath you and not one of them a goal [Hook: Basque bertsolari male MC, full drums] Little rooster on the roof, made of tin and full of air Every wind that comes along, you swear you always faced it there You can point at every corner, but you never make a point Weathervane, keep spinnin' till you rust in every joint [Verse 2: Basque bertsolari male MC, sharper, txalaparta rattling between the lines] Now it's autumn, and the song you hated's playin' in the square And you tell the whole plaza you were first to put it there You were first to call it garbage, I got screenshots from the spring Now you're hummin' in the front row like you taught me how to sing Aupa, give the man a trophy, he can turn completely round Without ever takin' one step, without ever touchin' ground You don't walk and you don't carry, and you don't build and you don't climb You just swivel on a rooftop, and you call it changin' time [Hook: Basque bertsolari male MC, full drums] Little rooster on the roof, made of tin and full of air Every wind that comes along, you swear you always faced it there You can point at every corner, but you never make a point Weathervane, keep spinnin' till you rust in every joint [Breakdown: Basque bertsolari male MC, stereo orbit, his voice circles left to right and back] Where I come from, every poet stands up empty in the square And they hand him any subject, and he builds it out of air No rehearsin', no retreatin', you just sing it where you stand And you live with every word of it, you don't swap it on command That's the difference, little rooster, I don't turn to suit the room I say one thing, and I mean it, from the cradle to the tomb So go on and spin your circles, I'll be walkin' straight ahead Ene, when the storm is over, you'll be facin' where it fled Agur, rooster, keep on turnin', I got roads I gotta take And they all run straight as arrows, and the arrows never shake [Final Hook: Basque bertsolari male MC, full drums] Little rooster on the roof, made of tin and full of air Every wind that comes along, you swear you always faced it there You can point at every corner, but you never make a point Weathervane, keep spinnin' till you rust in every joint [End]
