In streets where bottle caps fly free and bright,
The broomstick swings to meet the chapa’s call.
Chapita binds the heart in playful fight.
Through Caracas dust, young hands ignite,
Their laughter echoes off each crumbling wall.
In streets where bottle caps fly free and bright,
The pitcher’s toss, a spark in fading light,
Each hit a tale where dreams refuse to fall.
Chapita binds the heart in playful fight.
No field is marked, yet bases take their flight,
From corner stone to crate, they heed the thrall.
In streets where bottle caps fly free and bright,
Two teams, three innings, rules that shift by sight,
The game’s alive where youth and freedom sprawl.
Chapita binds the heart in playful fight.
From dusk till dark, they chase the fleeting sprite,
A cap, a stick, a joy that conquers all.
In streets where bottle caps fly free and bright,
Chapita binds the heart in playful fight.