We ask those who want to steal our opinion about politics what they do, if they are punctual, if they go out by car to buy bread, where they live, what kind of holiday they like. If they think we're on the run, they're mad at us. Hurt them if they know what we're talking about.
They don’t understand that in our gang we talk less and less about politics. They do not understand that we prefer to discuss the Tour, the foam of beer or the aesthetics of the naked body. They don’t understand that we are up to the chimera with absolute truth and majorities.

To those who ask us if we have become apolitical, we answer that we have no intention of getting married to the church, to count on us to put together concert posters, that we like gregarios more than leaders.

They thought we were drunk, that we'd gone crazy in a hurry. Maybe they're all right. But when we send them, unlike the Real Sociedad, saying that we live perfectly, they go mad. Some people get excited about the real thing, because we live better than others.
They wanted to talk politics.