Paco El Del Molino

Excuse me, folks, let me share
The story of a farmer I’m about to name
It was Paco from the Mill, just a kid like the rest
Helping the priest at mass and messing around in the yard.
Little by little he grew up and became quite the sight
The girls would look at him, and one dreamed of him
"Long live Paco from the Mill and Águeda with her charm
They were just sweethearts yesterday, and now they’re already wed.
Months went by, but the customs stayed the same
They kept paying the duke without a second thought
Rumors started flying, "Things are looking grim in Madrid"
The tables are about to turn, what could happen here?
Paco was elected mayor, the town was feeling good
In the council and the school, the tricolor flag flew
The lordship’s lands were taken away in Madrid
The duke’s mountain got its San Martín
But one sad morning, the rich kids showed up
With whips and guns, nobody had seen them
They beat up the poor shoemaker.
They killed six farmers and left their bodies behind.
The town was scared, no one knew what to do,
The shoemaker appeared, shot in the temple
On the road to the town, four more showed up
All four were councilmen, now all you hear is crying.
They say they’re looking for Paco, but no one can find him,
Only his father and Mosén Millán know where he is
The priest has "already confessed," they’ll be coming for him soon,
Mosén Millán convinces him he needs to turn himself in.
That afternoon, the "outsiders" in the square spoke to the whole town
They talked about faith, order, and the empire.
They took him inside the graveyard with four of them
Mosén Millán from the car heard his sins.
Suddenly, the two headlights lit up from the car
And at the same time, the shots rang out without mercy,
With his last breath, the priest crawled, screaming
Until four more shots finished him off.
And that’s how the story ends that I wouldn’t have told
A story of shame, a story from the past
But the one who told it to me a few years back
Said, "But remember, forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting."