Bueu is a municipality in Galicia, Spain, in the province of Pontevedra. Bueu belongs to the local region of O Morrazo together with Cangas do Morrazo, Moaña and Marín. It is located on the northern edge of the Morrazo peninsula. Its area is about 31 km2 and a population of around 13,003 inhabitants.
There is evidence of archaeological finds dating back from the Paleolithic period. The forts on the island of Ons, Castrillon (Meiro), Bon (Beluso) and A Cividade are all of the Bronze Age. Subsequently are the Roman settlements of Pescadoira (recently excavated) and Meiro, with the altar stones dedicated to the Lares road.
Only by the age of the temples in Bueu we can approach the time when it became a parish. It is known that Bueu had a temple before the fourteenth century. In Beluso there is data concerning a cession in 1008. The Church of Cela is from the twelfth century. The old Hermelo priory had a temple in the twelfth century.
As for the etymology of Bueu there are various opinions, but believed to be the closest is "marshy terrain".
Tomorrow's coming 'round
A hair-pin curve in the road
She's got a run in her stocking
And she's missing the heel of her shoe
Got up this morning rolled out of bed
I spilled a diet coke
Called my mother said, "Hi"
What I meant to say was, "Why is your life a joke?"
Then, I went down to that ugly bar and
I clicked my heels three times just like you said
And I climbed that road to your empty house
The anticipation was a turn on
But you let me down
'Coz, I stood on that empty street alone
I said, "I'm ready for my close up now, Mr. Demille"
I waited for the light, but it never shone
Well I wonder what you do with that expensive piece of land
That overlooks a billion years of history
I have a sneaking suspicion, you will never understand
Hey maybe I'll see you down by the Rocky and Bullwinkle
And we can talk to that charlatan psychic
And she can paint a prettier picture of your future
'Coz that day in my life, that day in my life
I dreamt tomorrow, had a prettier face
I dreamt tomorrow, would have better things to say
Than, "You look like shit, what's your problem, bitch?
You're legs feel like sandpaper, you can't do anything right"
'Coz that day, never should have taken place
'Coz this day, in my life still cannot explain
Why I listened in the first place to you?
Oh yeah, something else
I hope one day you call up your father
And you have the guts to tell him, how he hurt you
And he made you hurt another