[ Featuring Juan Formell ]
Crab is afraid of the sea
all those stomping waves
crabs looks at them and runs
leaving shadows as tips
crab signs his escape in the sand
using the only letters he trusts
poor crab.
His eyes melt into two points --
pole, compass
run, crab,
here comes grandma
carrying a stew pot
and she's learned to make fire
by rubbing two stones in the sand
like the sea does.
chorus: run, crab --
why?
here comes grandma
no way!
and she's carrying a pot
oh yeah?
run, crab --
not to the kitchen!
here comes grandma
no hot water, neither!
and she's got --
I'll hide in the sand!
a stew pot --
run, crab
nasty old lady!
here comes grandma
ha ha you old lady
and she's got a stew pot
run, crab --
