Ramiro Sierra

The snow was falling, the pines were freezing
On the cliff of the strawberry tree, some weapons were pointed
Only the snow feathers clouded those sights

A bull was heard bellowing, coming with the herd
And the hooves of the horse, of the man who drove them
Ramiro left the beast, while the cliff surrounded
The horse was a Creole, but very well rented
That's why, without his rider, he knew how to herd the cattle
Ramiro was proud of his red two-white

Ramiro Sierra told them, no one is fooled here
I just came to collect from you, the death of my friend
And to gather the cattle, which were stolen by cowards

There were six hundred steers, also dairy cattle
That's why those damn rustlers coveted him
But they didn't know that Ramiro was going to rip their skin open

Caliber 223, how nice it cackled
The moans were mixed with the mooing of the cows
And the echoes of the saw, this bullet recorded it

Goodbye, two-white, you will always be the first
Don Pablo Chávez, that rich cattle rancher, has already died
I hope that up there in heaven you continue to shoe calves