"my boy's got me tongue tied in two different languages he's calling me baby on mondays and sinta 'til sundays he's got me looking for him in between eskinitas and cathedrals from quezon avenue to intramuros all i see are his eyes and 7,107 islands in the palms of his hands and i never knew love could be so hard when your words ran faster than your heart makata is what they call you a master of poetry and performance you called me your greatest work and you are a master of fiction manileΓ±o is what you are my boy's got manila's grime and glory pulsing through his makata veins he's got makati's lights burning through his irises he's got the danger of manila beating in his chest he's got the cries of san juan lodged in his throat he's got the rhythm of the city in every step my boy's still a boy hijo is what you think you aren't he's got three stars on his back and he thinks he's the sun he thinks he can change the world himagsikan is what he wants a revolution beginning with him but tell me makata, manileΓ±o, hijo, my boy how are you going to save me? how are you going to love this country? my boy's tongue tied in two different faiths my boy forgot to save himself"