Saw your body in the street
Passing flowers out the other day
Virgen Guadalupe candles
Chalk white in the street
The neighbors out to visit
Imagine what they'd seen
Shook the hands of the father
He's looking indifferently
Second-hand vulture
Gliding on the highway
Resurrected in a spirit
Outsiders can't explain
And your hands grabbed the steering wheel
Like it was taking aim
You know the Via Rápida
Doesn't stop for anything
And they'll tell me that I'll see things
I'd never want to see
Tell me i'm a child
No responsibility
Everyone keeps turning away
Turning away
Saw your picture on the milk carton box
The other day
Chola talking white
Cops investigating the case
Eyebrows painted as she's talking
Ignoring all the subtleties
The story's more complicated than it always seems
Handing candy to children
Hope they'll remember me
Tried my best to help
But leaving feeling empty
Just a corrugated cardboard box
On a shanty street
Detritus on the side of the road
The cops will sweep
Tell me I'll see things
I'd never want to see
Call me a hero?
At the end of the day, I leave
Everyone keeps turning away
Turning away
Mom and dad say they're sinners
Even though they can never leave
Tell them they're perverted
Is it them or me?
Everyone keeps turning away