Juan Martha

They said he carried the devil
lies, he didn't carry anything
what he carried on his waist
was a pistol

He stole and killed people
because that's how he had fun
his head had a price
fifteen thousand pesos it was worth

Juan Martha was brave
and feared by the government
the rural police feared him
as if he were poison

His dear mother crying
crying and saying
if they set my son free
I would give fifteen thousand pesos

Don't cry anymore, dear mother
don't offer them anything
because when that little hill arrives
I'll laugh at the police

Don't cry anymore, dear mother
don't torment me
because of a hundred lives I owe
I'm paying with one

Tonight with the moon
and tomorrow with the sun
they will take your life
may it be for the love of God

With this I bid you farewell
but I leave you a letter
to keep telling
the ballad of Juan Martha