| Pedro Pinto character of legends.
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| Pedro Pinto a poet without a school
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| that you wrote with a pencil similar to the stars.
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| Pedro Pinto your wait is over.
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| Pedro Pinto walker of my sidewalks
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| Pedro Pinto toy soldier horse
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| trotter of my ideas.
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| Pedro Pinto your wait is over.
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| I would be able to say that he was a battle hero
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| because he hung the party garlands
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| from Don Pascual street.
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| I would be able to shout that Don Pedro was a bohemian
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| that the years painted him to give him seriousness.
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| Pedro Pinto, dancer and carpenter,
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| Pedro Pinto, did not hit one in the game
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| and he said that he loved Margarita.
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| Pedro Pinto your life is over
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| I would be able to say that Don Pedro left footprints,
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| Well, he bought without coins, with his kind face.
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| I would be able to shout that Don Pedro will be eternal.
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| Because he lived the dreams, without fear of waking up,
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| And Don Pedro was the cause of the revolution in my neighborhood
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| he was a kind of contemporary Jesus.
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| He was a carpenter, lecturer, dramatic actor, bricklayer,
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| politician, dancer, womanizer until enough is said,
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| but yes, he taught courses in the corners
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| how to become a responsible husband,
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| exemplary and homey.
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| You do not know how Pedro Pinto spoke.
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| It is your story Pedro Pinto, it is a song to your memory.
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| On the sidewalks the compadre Pedro Pinto sang
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| today he went on retreat I tell you, I was a witness.
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| Remember bohemian street, sadness,
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| You give joy to my neighborhood.
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| Don Pedro greet your eternity.
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| He tells the story that was your muse, your inspiration,
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| that in the lives of many remained as a theme of love. |