Morir en el Sur

Dedicated to everyone on death row.

You gotta die somehow in the south—
Why wait for fate?
Make my last stand a glorious blaze,
Grab my pistol and claim my place.

Two drinks too many,
Whilin’ down the side lanes.
The other driver was even drunker,
Now I don’t gotta save for old age.

No one here does—
We chew and get cancer of the mouth,
Drink turpentine and scarf greasy chicken
Cause you gotta die somehow in the south.

My life was a grind,
Til I started poppin pills,
Then smoking and injecting it,
Now I don’t gotta pay any of my bills.

No one here does—
We pick fights and scream and shout,
Light homemade fireworks and shoot the sky,
Cause you gotta die somehow in the south.

When I stopped by the doctor,
They said I’d got an infection.
It spread from my dick to my brain
Cause I didn’t use protection.

No one here does—
But never have a doubt,
Whether for cash, love, or pure self-destruction,
You gotta die somehow in the south.

I’ve got a suicide wish,
Fuck the death row blues.
I took two cops down with me,
Read about it in the news!

Cause no matter what you hope from life,
It’s too short to be lived down and out.
We all become black birds when we die.
And you gotta die somehow in the south.

(cumbia chorus:
Porque se debe
Porque se debe
Morir en el sur
De alguna manera
O otra manera.)

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