least my son, rising rain in the east black cars guns blazing, no peace some may lost, miss my padre caught that gaucho fire, dire, our cadre we were, no deter, only spur to prays, espiritu santo evil men de uzis fire sprays, grito cry amen streets of loss, on the cross, suspend our time to feel the sun burst of rays transverse time, I am fine, this focus on daughter to escape gang slaughter we ran across the border, avoiding the soldier for the land of the free, no k**ing spree for the cali tree, this i can see across my field of open grain, total body strain to be american, a citizen, is the hope, but brownican cast a sin, no help rope, this my blindness, full of ignorance poured into wordiness of a trance of sleuths news spews lies a dance. bow my head to rest, storms rumble down west.