| Light the candle that the chuntaros of the neighborhood return
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| Light the candle that the chuntaros of the neighborhood return
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| Light the candle that the chuntaros of the neighborhood are coming back...
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| Moment, today listen, for ear, put on trout,
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| accordions and drums we already need the smells and flavors of cumbia and
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| polka
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| like crazy the amacas with the wind they wiggle
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| little girls color their mouths with colors to kiss their returning loves
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| the comadres in the street already take out the rocking chairs and become creditors
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| of the neighbor's gossip and on the block it's coming
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| the expected return of those who were absent and are present again.
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| Light the candle that the chuntaros of the neighborhood return
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| Light the candle that the chuntaros of the neighborhood return
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| Light the candle that the chuntaros of the neighborhood are coming back...
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| Stronger and returned the Great Silence has arrived
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| accelerated and side by side crushing whoever grows
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| they are screaming pure tinder
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| as a branch of the mesquite for the dry of the ojote
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| lighting up the avenue with his well pimp rhythm
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| from her neighborhood the Artilleryman and also from the Model Unit
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| long live the Cedros Valle Verde the Great Silence is aware
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| where the songs that are sung in the trucks are born
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| and they take a walk throughout Mexico, the magic of the hearts of the people
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| of your state and I have been saying and singing on stage
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| for singing an adventure of the chichimeca race
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| because here we are all from the north
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| and we shout Pura Yesca!!! |