| I met Luis Ramirez
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| On the streets of Veracruz
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| Chasin' shadows down the alley
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| Pinning medals on our shoes
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| We grew up and worked together
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| In the hillsides and the fields
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| 'Til the citrus dried
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| And the coffee prices fell
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| Jobs started moving north
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| 'Til there was no work left to find
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| Luis said he knew somebody
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| Who could help us cross the line
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| So we met with Don Garcia
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| And took out our loans
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| That night we danced and drank like morning wouldn’t come
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| A bus took us to the border
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| Where together we crossed the wire
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| But we lost sight of the coyote
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| As the white Sonoran sun began to rise
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| Through the canyons and arroyos
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| We made our way west
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| The wind swept across the dirt
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| And erased our steps
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| It was out on devil’s highway
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| Where the heat turns your sweat to paste
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| Luis fell 'neath the red shadows
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| Of the lost souls who haunt this place
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| He took the money from his pocket
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| Put his hand in mine
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| And said, «brother, I’ll meet you on the other side»
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| Down on the desert floor
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| His eyes the color of rust
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| Luis lay dying
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| His blood mixing with the dust
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| I held his hand 'til he stopped breathing
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| Whispered grace into his hear
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| But out there in desolation
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| You need a different kind of prayer
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| So I crossed in to Yuma county
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| Through the burning mesquite trees
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| In every buzzard’s laugh
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| I swore I heard Luis
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| Now there’s a bar on south magnolia
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| Where I spend what I don’t need
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| Buying drinks with the gavachos
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| With my brothers from the fields
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| We passed through the dead and dying
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| Across dried bones and dusted dreams
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| My friend, you don’t forget
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| The way that hunger feels
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| Tonight the Yuma sky is endless
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| And the water is cool and green
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| I close my eyes
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| And let the darkness swallow me |