Sinners, Saints and Keroracs.

I woke up this morning,
I´d turned into a centiped,
This ain´t no Kafta,
It´s Santiago we´re after,
10,000 feet, 500 miles,
We are a giant centiped,
Stomp, stomp, stomp,
Sinners, saints and Keroracs,
With kilos on our backs.

First it is Logrono,
Then it is Najara,
Mario´s doing the cooking,
And tonight it´s pasta and paella,
We walk for Jackio, we walk for Jackio,
There´s tinto in the jar.