La Hija de Juan Simón

When I finished my sentence
When I finished my sentence
I felt very lonely and lost

She died of sorrow
And I, who have been guilty
I know she died being good
She died of sorrow
And I, who have been guilty
I know she died being good

They buried her in the afternoon
Juan Simón's daughter
And it was Simón in the town
And it was Simón in the town
The only gravedigger

And as he carried the shovel in one hand
And the pickaxe on his shoulder
Everyone asked him
And everyone asked him:
Where are you from, Juan Simón?

I'm a gravedigger, and I come
I'm a gravedigger, and I come
To bury my heart