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Twenty-seven spanishes |
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Arriving from the sea |
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Blades of steel flashing |
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Cutting down the eagle's tree |
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Came riding in on mountains |
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On red and silver steeds |
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Into the city of the serpent |
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Through the gates of the Otomi |
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A soldier dressed in iron asks |
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"Where do you all come from?" |
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"From the earth of four directions |
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From the purple clouds above" |
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Just then a rain came falling down |
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As the wind began to blow |
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The sky then turned to crimson |
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With a sound so deep and low |
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Said the brown prince to the spanishes |
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As he raised a mighty hand |
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"Don't come here bringing worries |
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To the people of this land" |
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Their swords then turned to deadly snakes |
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Like the ones found in the grass |
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"Get back into those silly ships |
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Before we kick your ass" |
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But the strangers made an offer |
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So the brown prince said "why not" |
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And ended up with empty plates |
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And boot soup in a pot |
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Later they became muy friendly |
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And their blood was often mixed |
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Now they all hang out together |
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And play guitars for kicks |
