The barks of the dogs
Are breaking up the silence
Of another holy night
Deep, down in Mexico

Not all of them will survive
To see the sunrise in the morning
It’s hard to find some food
Too much traffic on the road

Their graveyard is the asphalt
Their bodies will dry out
Their smell begins to rise
Mixing with the garbage’s stench

The air is so thick
Could cut it with a knife
The blue sky gone brown
How can people stand to live here?

I’m riding on the libre
Through a thousand pueblos
Over a billion topes
Deep down in Mexico

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