El Show de Los Muertos

I have the dead all here
Who wants me to show them to you?
Some kneeling, others standing
All dead forever
Choose which one of them
He started thinking

I have tears all here
Like a cold drizzle
Which grimace will you choose?
Your spectrum's or mine?
Choose which of these deaths
She started to cry

I grew up with smiles from home
Clear skies and green garden
And what am I doing
Here on this street hungry?
How many times will I have to die
To always be me?

And not the one who sleeps peacefully
After murdering without knowing
And laugh at home
With the body clean of death
Alone with his own death
Small, trivial, on your back

Widows dance
Fly the black veils to infinity
Let the healthy bullets fall here
That the others will scream
Something is wrong sir
What's that red on your pants?