La Maquinita

Here we have come because we have arrived, both from different sides. Singing songs we pass life a little more fun. It was in the year forty, before fifty-four, when so many people died between Puebla and Apizaco. The train that ran on its wide track suddenly crashed into an airplane that was flying over the plain without stopping. The engineer was left with his guts out, looking at the aviator who, already without a head, was looking for a hat to shield himself from the sun. All this happened to us without knowing how or when and the machine kept whistling... whistling... and moving. The good fireman also ended up dead under the tar and even the brakeman, armless and one-eyed, kept on working. Looking for the publications agent, we found him dying, and the poor man shouting: 'Cold beers...', he went to the other world. The few survivors watched, crying, and the machine kept whistling... whistling... and moving. The Red Cross arrived, the White Cross arrived, to assist the wounded and there they found out that all the dead had already run away in fear. All the dead ran away in such critical moments that there have been corpses found four leagues ahead. In a ditch, the dead were throwing themselves and the machine kept whistling... whistling... and moving. Don Maximiliano arrived in a carriage, who was the governor at that time, and among the dead he saw a poor policeman shouting: 'Stop and forward'. Don Maximiliano saw the dining car open and he immediately sat down to eat, and there the cook served him instantly the liver of a deceased. The vultures were flying over the dead and the machine kept whistling... whistling... and moving. And we don't want to continue this story to not tire you. Pray for the souls of those who died, men, children, and women. Remembering so many dead, we leave crying and the machine kept whistling... whistling... and moving.