Hey! Grew to live in fear of Bruno stuttering or stumbling
I could always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling
I associate him with the sound of falling sand, ch-ch-ch
It's a heavy lift, with a gift so humbling
Always left Abuela and the family fumbling
Grappling with prophecies they couldn't understand
Do you understand?
A seven-foot frame
Rats along his back
When he calls your name
It all fades to black
Yeah, he sees your dreams
And feasts on your screams (hey!)
We don't talk about Bruno, no, no, no! (We don't talk about Bruno, no, no, no!)