Sinaloa Cowboys

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 hueros 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
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
They'd 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
There 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