Goodbye to the dogs of Coapexpan,
My twenty-five friends on the hill,
Goodbye to the dogs of Coapexpan,
I hear that you all have been killed.
Your lives were so free and unfettered,
But also so lacking in love.
You had so much to offer our village.
In return, all you got was a shove.
Cachucho, your life was the hardest.
You left without saying goodbye.
I believe that your death was the kindest.
Your sorrow was ready to die.
Seems my leaving was kind of a trigger,
Leaving room for the devil's return.
The mosca that signaled a danger,
Had more portent than I could infer.
The motive for silencing gladness,
Is a soul that would like to forget
Its own descent into madness,
Its seclusion from the rest of the set.
If the joyful are here to remind us,
What we lack in our own joyless lives,
What's the cure? What's a better solution,
Besides poison and pistols and knives?
It's an opening up of the spirit
To the love that is wiggling their tails.
But a closed heart would rather throw parties,
Inviting the whole world to wail.
Goodbye to the dogs of Coapexpan,
My twenty-five friends on the hill.
Goodbye to the dogs of Coapexpan,
Your memory lives with me still.



