Ezequiel Rodrígues
Los Cadetes de Linares
Ezequiel Rodríguez
In the year '41, December, that fateful month
There was a death in Osada, on a Saturday the twenty-third
When Ezequiel hit the dance, he started talking big
"Respect me, I'm your father, agraristas of Osada"
God gave me a target, and here it is in my sights
Tonight I’ll send it off, it’ll be an agrarista's night
Anselmo pulled his gun, and Ezequiel drew his too
'Cause he thought everyone was his to rule
Once Ezequiel went down, not even raising a hand
The crowd was screaming loud, "Long live Anselmo García!"
They left all the way, heading towards Linares
With Ezequiel badly hurt, unaware of his family's cares
Goodbye, chestnut horse, I won’t ride you again
They’re taking me to Linares, to lay me in the ground
At the foot of my grave, I want my pistol near
They killed a gunslinger, from the folks of Atareo
