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Beto Y Sus Canarios
Armed Band
My Last Contraband
When I die, listen friends, that is my taste and no way.
The finest box and I well dressed and with my wings of gold, on the right hand my goat horn and in the other a kilo of dust.
With my jeans and ostrich boots and my pitiated belt.
I am all cowboy and with great alipus my vest of deer.
So that Saint Peter tells Jesus there is a heavy bull there.
It will be my last trip, and I don't want to be in vain. That's why I want to take My Last Contraband. If God doesn't give me a pass, I'll easily go with the devil.
I want pure friends to come and get on with this thing. So he returns carrying a plate and everyone offers dust. With better wines and toast my friends to Mi Ultimo Contrabando.
And decorate my entire tomb. With rubber and grass branches. And if by chance it could be buried with my truck, so that they know that the land will not swallow anything.