Huella de Cuatro Rumbos (Huella)

My grandpa was a sergeant
Of the iron three
And he walked in the campaigns
Through the desert

When a pampa chuza
Flowered his chest
And on horseback he exhaled
His last breath

Round
My old man at fifteen
Became a carter
Through those same paths
That my grandpa opened
His bugle was the whistle
Of the crossings
His spear a cattle prod
His poncho the sky
His spear a cattle prod
His poncho the sky

Since I was a kid I wanted
To be a guitar player
Singer of dawn songs
Is my dream

And walk like the crickets
Into the night
Bleeding in verses
Through these hills

Round
My kid is eight years old
And is in town
And makes pencil footprints
In his notebook
He's following the paths
That the teacher opened
How cowboy is my son
He wants to be read
Damn how cowboy is my son
He wants to be read