Garrafón de China and a stranger in the kitchen

We've all had that morning. Your head about to explode, your mouth like a scouring pad and a man in your kitchen you don't remember inviting. «Garrafón de China» (Chinese Rotgut) is the chronicle of that hangover, told with the same startled face you open your eyes with.

The culprit is clear from the first verse: the muscleman behind the bar, who sold them «garrafón», cheap bootleg spirits. The protagonist mixed everything at the big party, wakes up next to some guy he has no idea about and starts trying to remember, with no success at all. How did this guy end up in the bed? A mystery. He's ended up naked in the bedroom, and the lyrics hint, with all the sarcasm in the world, that his «dotación», his endowment, may have had something to do with the decision. It's one of the naughtiest rhymes I've got.

The chorus is almost a drinking chant: bad rotgut, I feel finished; rotten rotgut, I feel awful. And then the shout with the song's name, followed by the domestic drama of having a stranger in the kitchen. That contrast between the cheap booze and the everyday scene of someone rummaging around your home cracks me up.

The second time round, the protagonist admits he's halfway between exhausted and stoned, and that he should have called it a night before the celebration. He describes it as if a lorry had run him over. It's a song of regret, yes, but the kind of regret that lasts until the following Saturday.

For everyone who's sworn «never again» at Sunday lunchtime. And for honest bartenders, because they do exist.

Recipe for listening: sunglasses on indoors, an ibuprofen and plenty of water. Or on Saturday afternoon, as a warning you're going to ignore completely.

The full lyrics are below. Listen on Spotify