Sinaloa Cowboys

Well, Miguel came from a small town

In northern Mexico

He came north with his brother Luis

To California three years ago

They crossed at the river levee

When Luis was just sixteen

And found work together

In the fields of the San Joaquin

They left their homes and family

Their father said, "My sons, one thing you will learn

For everything the north gives

It exacts a price in return"

They worked side by side in the orchards

From morning until the day was through

Doing the work

The gueros wouldn't do

Word was out some men in from Sinaloa

Were looking for some hands

Well, deep in Fresno county

There was a deserted chicken ranch

Well there, in a small tin shack

On the edge of a ravine

Miguel and Luis stood

Cooking methamphetamine

You could spend a year in the orchards

Or make half as much in one ten-hour shift

Working for the men from Sinaloa

Ah, but if you slipped

The hydriodic acid

Could burn right through your skin

Leave you spitting up blood in the desert

If you breathed those fumes in

It was early one winter evening

As Miguel stood watch outside

When the shack exploded

Lighting up the valley night

Miguel carried Luis's body over his shoulder

Down a swale to the creek side

And there in the tall grass

Luis Rosales died

Miguel lifted Luis' body

Into his truck and then he drove

To where the morning sunlight fell

On a eucalyptus grove

In the dirt, he dug up ten thousand dollars

All that they'd saved

Kissed his brother's lips

And placed him in his grave