Los Entierros

Family!
The burials of my poor people
Are a real spectacle
Feel it, you!

At the burials
Of my poor, poor people
The flowers are made of paper
The tears are real

'Cause unlike others
Funerals in life
Where the crying is fake
And there’s a lot of real flowers

What’s more fragrant than a heartfelt tear
That shows the suffering of the people
'Cause the flowers will wilt by tomorrow
And the cemetery is an indifferent forgetfulness

My poor people always return to the holy ground
Planting a flower of tears with love and will
The poppies of true affection
Are the greatest tribute from my folks in the slums

Chorus
At the burials of my poor, poor people
When we cry, it’s because we really feel it

There’s no indifference here
When we lose a friend
It’s heartfelt love
But we give it with strength

I ask you, I ask you
What good is a million
When you die, they cry for you with falsehood
Lies, lies from that crybaby

It’s just a show
Of tremendous affection
The burials of my poor people
We laugh and cry like children

On the night of the wake
Between coffee and cookies
About what the deceased lived
But we share beautiful stories

But that’s why I stay
With my poor, poor people
Simple paper flowers
And a lot of real love

And on this last journey
To the holy ground
For that friend of the soul
Rumbero! We accompany him singing

The burials of the rich
Are settled by a will
But for my poor people
Hey! A display of feeling