My name is Magdalena, Carmen, Frieda, Kahlo y Calderon. We board one of the new buses. So tell me without beating about the bush. If you want to respect life, draw a line. He makes me run because I can’t walk. The weather is different and the people ambitious. And I endure. I follow him. Your company dimishes me. Doesn’t all this look like a comedy? That’s why it was San Francisco! For example: Yellow. You’re here? Why did you bring me here?