He stood there, waiting

Sand blowing around his feet,

Watching, the sun rising high in the sky.

Disbelieve in fairy tales, and

kiss your blood as it falls to the ground.

It's over now.

Silver glints cruelly, sharp gleam in his eye.

Someone's a killer,

Black sunglasses and fire,

Crimson rose of the crimson tide,

blood pools in the dry sand.

Tear-stained and riddled,

Pistol in hand,

Silver and bright.

Can you not see him? El Mariachi the ghost.

Can you not hear him? El Mariachi on the wind.