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The Cherry Tree
Matamoros smells of blood
Death was lurking
In the mentioned cherry tree
The devil was showing up.
Oliverio asked for a deal
But Garcia didn't accept
The cherry tree is very small
And we don't fit, you and I.
Look closely, little parrot
The stash in the gates
Everyone who goes inside
They search and count them
How is it possible that inside
There are so many machine guns.
Of the eighteen who died
Four were Colombians
Also a couple
Who came to visit them.
Matamoros Tamaulipas
And Broxville on the other side
Have always suffered the siege
From people of smuggling.
Look closely, little parrot
The stash in the gates
Everyone who goes inside
They search and count them
How is it possible that inside
There are so many machine guns.
