I have not been a priest but I am the elizalde tano
by the way pa be more accurate respect quiet
and ranch seat wasabe my land sinaloa my
been watching death pass by one side memories
in my soul I will not be able to erase them, luck is cast
the marked letters I could not help it
the days passed the months the years your smile intact
in my mind and saved bale I remember you I follow you
crying I still dream you and awake thinking my
golden cocky my cousin my brother looks like a lie
that you have left, I hope to return
to see you naughty and cheerful at the ranch walking
and purely in front of company knows that we are at
Sienon old and above wasabe my friend '
invade my mind the past times how much you
we suffered how much we fought when we were children
we dream of playing the band and one day we made it
winged old my uncle lano the cock that despite the time
continues to roll up the style elizalde well marked
through the years
I respect the poorest respect for the richest those who know me
you know I'm simple I prefer an applause than a prize bought
I was in the chasm and I was not dazzled by the strength of a
man marks his story when jumping the straw not everything is the glaria
little god gave me money poverty and friends to spare
Only among all we can make this a better place :)