The Yoke Bar
Those lands in the corner
I planted them with a brown ox
My barzon burst
And the yoke continues to move
When I reached the middle of the earth
The plow was buried
Even the TV news outlet found out
The rudder came loose
The yoke was buckling
The barçon was grazing
The sower was talking to me
I told the sower
Don't talk to me when I'm plowing
My barzon burst
And the yoke continues to move
When I finished picking
The rich man came and broke it
All my corn was taken
He didn't even leave me anything to eat
Here is the account for me
Here you owe 20 pesos
From the rent of some oxen
5 pesos of magueys
A three-page negation
From the beans that we lent you
A three-page negation
From the corn that we limit you
5 pesos for some covers
7 pesos of cigarettes
6 pesos I don't know what for
But it's all in the account
More than 20 reales
What did you get from the store?
How much of the corn is yours?
You don't pay taxes
But you can count on my land
To continue sowing it
Now go to work
So that you continue paying
I just stayed thinking
Shaking my blanket
Making my leaf cigar
What a shameless boss
All my corn was taken
For his damned barn
My barzon burst
And the yoke continues to move
When I got to my little house
My beloved garment told me
Where's the corn that you got?
I answered him very sadly
The boss took him away
For what I owed to the Treasury
But the boss told me
That will count on the land
To continue sowing it
Now I'm going to work
To continue paying him
20 pesos 10 cents
Plus what I get by subtracting
My beloved garment told me
Don't work with that man
He's just stealing from us
Go to the meeting room
Let my friend take you
Don't pay attention to the father anymore
He and his excommunications
You don't see your family
That no longer has underwear
I don't even have a skirt anymore
You don't even have pants
I just stayed thinking
So I left my boss
My beloved garment told me
Let the boss go to hell
As if we were hungry
If you are to continue believing
What they say in the media
Pure manipulation
And government lies
The boss is in the field
The farmers and associates
White Guards and Thugs
Just exploiting villages
They are drying up our land
And there in the cities
The corrupt policemen
The mobsters and bankers
Just sucking the blood
To the people, to the workers
That's why Zapata
Now ride again
The civil revolution
Long live self-government
My barzon burst
And the yoke continues to move
And the yoke continues to move
