LYRIC

He makes eagles an ocelots dance!
Come to see the Huexotzinca
On days of the eagle loudly cries the mexica: War!

Battlefield is the place!
Where one toasts the divine liquor in war,
Where are stained red the divine eagles
Where the tigers howl!

Where all kinds of precious stones rain
Where wave headdresses rich with fine plumes
Where princes are smashed to bits
"there is nothing like die in the war!"

Nothing like flowery death; so precious!
To Him who gives life; far of I see it!
My heart yearns for it!

And they called it Teotihuacan
Cause it was the place where Lords were buried
Thus they said:

"When we die, truly we die not,
We will live, we will rise…
We will continue living"

Thus the dead one was directed, when he died

Awake the sky is red blood

Thus the old one said
That who has died has become a god
Meaning "he has died"

"already dawn has come
Already sing the colored guans
Fire colored swallows
Butterflies fly"

Even jade is shattered
Even gold is crushed
Quetzal plume are torn

One does can live?
… Forever!

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