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Yo
I used to think that NOTHING grew in the mountains
Pizarro sold me so when he was searching for them Fountains
A place paved with gold to show the Old World that he′d win it
Now I know little did he know he was standing in it
A retreat where everyday it rains love more than rain
Little Green Shoots become Trees against the pains
A tropical highland paradise sequestered in a fold
A seahorse emblazoned on the ceiling of the world
There I too set off to look for beauty, glory, gold
Landed in Maria Cordoba legends foretold
The tomorrow I so desperately now searched and sought for
Many men of many yesterdays had died and fought for
I scaled up to the summit to marvel at the lights below
There it hit me: every light's a life trying to stay aglow
Leaning on each other facing every day, come what may
Fighting against all odds, beating back wave after wave
To help ease the suffering of a lonely existence
Friends greet friends with
′What more can I assist with? (Que mas, pa?)'
The gold I had sought was never to be found in the ground
It grew in the hearts of men and women living all around
Living one life, feeling one love in unbroken unity
Breaking daily bread to feed the multitudes equally
Come with me
I show you what it's like to never die alone
For those who have Mi Valle to call home!
Let cease all the hate in your chest
Come light a blunt and take a load off (load off)
At peace and a pardon to rest
Aun mas sancocho, throw them clothes off (clothes off)
Let cease all the hate in your chest
Come light a blunt and take a load off (load off)
At peace and a pardon to rest
Aun mas sancocho, throw them clothes off (clothes off)
A young mama gets off the bus looking for her tomorrow
Barely outta colegio, tears still fresh with sorrow
Hands empty save for a Holy Cross, her sole possession
Heart heavy with uncertainty inherent in her profession
Little did she expect to graduate to life on the streets
But the place her son lives is ruled by Bandidos and thieves
No one taught her how to deal with broken electoral promises
And now there′s a new mouth to feed, ′so fill me, foreign phalluses
You may break my body but you'll never touch my soul
There are things I keep within worth more than all of Earth′s gold'
How many times does she repeat this before she believes it?
Why does every Navidad make her feel deflated and defeated?
Her first client: a narcotraficante that found her on Tinder
With a fetish for firing live rounds high as f*k while he′s in her
Another: a ranchero who had her friend for last Carneval
Bought her jewelry gave her tusi 'til one night she overdosed
That mald*o h*p*ta left her for dead
He′s already moved on; she's dying alone in her bed
Luck the neighbor below her found her still breathing
Strapped her to his Rappi bag and passed emergencia
They raced through the night
To try to resuscitate her heart (Va a morir!)
Little could they see that long ago it had cracked apart
Several months go by, she's not talking or eating
It′s been ages since her family had a reason for communion
With hardly a morsel to eat she′s down to maybe 40 kilos tops
Counting days, hoping she'll just fade away
Then someone knocks
The neighbor had found her Cross dangling off his seat
Patched it up, repainted it, restoring bit of its sheen
Now, I′m not saying that angels live and walk among us
Only that some feel others' pain, and those who don′t wrong us
Sometimes life is cold, and love is forged in adversity
Fortune to the bold to witness life's diversity
So, Little Green Shoot, keep pushing higher and higher
Your fate may be to grow tall or be thrown into the fire
But without you desire to grow tall are you even a Tree at all?
Sooner - or later - we all fall!
When I sleep I see a valley of death
Where all the flowers fall and fade fast (fade fast)
Tusi is the cousin of meth
The ones who suffer most get saved last (saved last)
When I sleep I see a valley of death
Where all the flowers fall and fade fast (fade fast)
Tusi is the cousin of meth
The ones who suffer most get saved last (saved last)
He was born with the mind of a poet and the heart of a king
Papa slung mud for the FARC and mama swept the rich clean
By each night′s candlelight he taught himself to read
Had gone thru all of Garcia Marquez when he turned a teen
When la policia came to pillage his pueblo, he fled
Destined to be another stone on another flowerbed
Wrote poems of longing to the rustling of the Cauca
And foraged for food under the light of the moon, his new cucha
Saw beauty where others only beheld destitution
Gave flowers to cows and kept company with wild vultures
Wandered his way to the bowl of lights in the mountains
Where there might be steady food and a chance at self-redemption
He would find a semafora, gather flowers, and sell it
Or peddle painted trinkets and pawn off restored relics
Everything he touched became a better version of itself
When the cold set in he recited Borges to himself
Neruda kept him company and Marquez whisked him away
To the balmy banks of the Magdalena where he spent his days
But the newly elected oligarchy in the camara was ruthless
Sweeping up street peddlers like guerrillas, only toothless
One muchacho he knew took him to an abandoned park
Where they strapped him to an orange bag and gave a celular
From now on he would run around like any entregador
Domicilio by day, and at night, pericho and more
They took his earnings but gave him a room and pair of wheels
He hadn't slept in a proper bed for close to 16 years
It was there that one dawn as he came home from slinging
Heard a curse, a slam, and heavy footsteps descending
I'm sure you already know what happens next in this story
A hero need not wear a cape nor chase after glory
All you need′s a way to see yourself in every being
And the bounties you′ll receive will ease the loneliness of feeling
Alone in the world with no cover to keep out the cold and rain
But that's life! it′s painful everyday and then tomorrow
Comes another day with its unknowns you never know the day you'll go
So hold on to what matters most - I said - what matters most to you
Whether love, beauty, or just a piece of wood
Never let it go - you hear - you clench good!
No peace for the genius who′s born
Along the banks of some forgotten rio
Can't see where the days they are going
And every harvest ripes and rots in Hell
No peace for the genius who′s born
Along the banks of some forgotten rio
Can't see where the days they are going
And every harvest ripes and rots in Hell
Sometimes revelations come with a bit of help from trees
A stroll thru memory lane, a roll and baking of the leaves
104 days I spent in your verdant gardens
You fed me, clothed me, sheltered me from rain and a guilty conscience
Looking back with tears I can the truth fully behold
You taught me there's a semblance still of Hope left in this world!
We cooked your wealth into a paste and sold it for abuse
Cheapified into a product peddled to amuse
Deceiving ourselves saying it could feed our hungry masses
Instead it fills our body bags with fresh new lads and lasses
Still, your Little Green Shoots keep reaching for the sun
Clinging to each others′ roots, dying one by one
Never disheartened to try to live for one day more
For themselves and for all those who loved them heretofore
Saying: ′If I fall, what will they who love and need me do?
My death condemns them to a life of waiting for their doom!
I must carry on! (Seguimos adelante!)
No matter the strength of the storm
For him - the little boy I brought into the world!
For her - the flower that I watered back to life!'
For THEM - in memory of whom I dedicate this rhyme!
Cuz I would slash my wrists to be in fellowship with your pain
To bleed me out a song that sets alight to all it stains
Wash away your yesterdays with the faithfully falling rains
Saying ′NUNCA MAS - will our sins let our sons be slain!'
This valley - where beauty blossoms behind the back of death
And art is tinged with suffering that tragedies attest
Here tomorrow met a better man among la gente
Mi Valle me tocó severamente, si me entiende?
Siempre espero verte en mis sueños esta noche
Cuidate, Mi Valle, Y VALE!
To all my hermanitos and hermanitas
Locked down in El Dorado, doing your thing, surviving
La Pulga
Santi
Mello
Nati
Clay
Jackie
Allen
Chaval
Piolo
Mateo
Camilo
Maria
Y todas las otras
Volvere por ustedes, lo prometo
Esperen por mi!
Vale vale
Come hey what may
Covid go away
GEO! GEO!
