Juan Amaya

```Folks, I bring a ballad
That fills me with sadness
The story of two brothers
One very noble
Wanted to fix the other
Who turned out to be a bad apple.

A tree that grows crooked
Will never straighten its trunk
Juan loved his brother very much
For he had an abundance of nobility
You want to clean up the pig
You lose your soap and time.

Juan never lost hope
Of fixing Martín
He took him to Durango
Looking for a future
He never thought that victory
Would only come in death.

Juan was noble and a man
And a federal police officer
Martín was a thug
One of the many out there
He took him to help him
He wanted to straighten him out.

One day they didn't work
Martín started drinking
With alcohol and drugs
He began to lose control
Firing an r-15
Without stopping to think.

When they told Juan
He quickly came over
And didn't manage to say anything
Just opened the door
With three bullets in his body
Martín welcomed him.

Fly, fly little dove
To my beloved Victoria
Let her know that Juan Amaya
Has passed away in Durango
That he was killed by his brother
The one Juan loved the most.```