Héroes

I remember my neighborhood, full of stolen horses and Kadetts,
Full of junkies who went in
Skinny to jail and came out ripped.
I remember my neighborhood full of AIDS and crying mothers,
Full of robberies with a mother's love
Written and running in the streets.

In the vacant lots, the junkies
Shot up stronger than our shins,
And there, those who didn't fly, ran
Chased by the police.

And my neighborhood is called 'of the Christ',
That instead of crosses and candles
There was a time when it had
Veins full of races.
I remember my neighborhood full of singing
From immigrant children, full of kids,
Bulls, heifers, chicks, dudes, and chicks.

I remember my neighborhood
Full of hope and legal priests,
Full of street fights
Against the drug dealers who dirty the blood.
But death lived
Hidden in corners selling its horse,
Dressed in shitty fashion or overdose,
Satisfying the cravings.

And my neighborhood is called 'of the Christ',
That instead of crosses and candles
There was a time when it had
Veins full of races.

And now that everything has passed
My eyes fill with songs
My guts with memories of so many innocent dead.
My eyes fill with songs, my guts
With cries for so many mothers without children.
And now that everything has passed...

There was a time when there were
Many heroes and heroines...