Mi Tristeza

They won’t
Believe
My friends
I was
Poorer
Than you
Also
I was
A farmer
Respectful
Of the laws
But the time
We live in
Playing
Clean
You can’t
Do it
I used to
Get by
With the rich
In my town
I planted
My sesame
On a fallow
Hilltop
They paid me
Two
Thousand
I never made
Even the money

Now
My crops
Are different
From before
I don’t even remember
I started
Thinking
About things
I wanted to show off
A new car
And I planted
Just weed
On the hillside

Now
I’m
Real fancy
They call me
Mr. So-and-so
I’ve got two
Or three
Lovers
And some trucks
From this year
Money
To spend
Now
I live
Drinking
And if
Things get wild
Then cash
When he
Stuffed
Two
Three bundles
Of those
That have
The deer
The cops
And the thugs
Even scratch
My hand

I want
Palomo
To play
My corridos
And songs
Because after all
To the cemetery
I won’t
Take
The millions
Bring beer
Bartender
Because after all
The hill
Responds