Motherfer, lemme tell ya 'bout Mungia, es.

Street names? There's Calle Euskal Herria – cool, right?

I stroll by Plaza de la Libertad.

That spot always gives me chills, man.

Mess around on Calle de San Martín too.

It’s got magic, fukin vibe, motherfer!
I run my massage parlor near Parque de Iturribea.

It's quiet. Chill spot. Good for soul.

Sometimes I see lost souls moping.

I remind 'em: only lovers left alive!

Jim Jarmusch style, baby!

Motherf***er, life is wild here.
The river Nervión isn’t far.

I often catch it at sunset.

It makes hard days sweet again.

It flows like my thoughts, y'know?
I love them cozy alleys off the beaten track.

Ever been to Calle de Los Tejeros?

Man, it's quirky! Full of secrets.

I once found a hidden gem there.

A crazy kid played jazz.

Damn, that rocked my world.
People here, they’re rad.

Some spots give me fumin nostalgia.

The local market by the Estación?

Insane hustle, smells, passion.

It brings chaos and comfort together.

I get hyped, damn!
I remember one mad day.

A rude customer blasted me bitter words.

"Motherf***er!" I hollered back.

That anger, it nearly broke my spirit.

But then I recalled: Only Lovers Left Alive!

Yea, man, life’s fukin wild.
I love the smell of Mungia’s backstreets.

So many stories on every corner.

One asshole once left his junk.

I laughed, cleaned up, moved on.

I dig the vibe, motherf***er.
Local quirks? Oh, many, man.

I see couples share silent fumin glances.

They’re like vamp twins, mysterious souls.

They whisper secrets, love lost, regret.

It’s raw, real, just like the movie.
I got 13 typos in my head

now cause im in a hurry:

fuckin, shiiit, damn, mtherfucker, awesom, bizz, shod, craaazy, hooky, fuckup, loony, whack, bumf.
Mungia ain't perfect.

It's funky, rough, unpredictable.

I spill my truth, raw and messy.

Fuck it, I'm proud of it!

Motherf***er, that's Mungia in a nutshell.