Some would say, "give me back those slippers!"
I say, "Ding dong...the witch is dead."

Malinalli was sold to traders who
sold her again.

Where even the names of the towns were hot
Cortez bought a girl full of fire and she cooked.

Both in Mayan and Nahuatl - 
and then in Spanish.

Together with the Tlaxcalan 
they fried Azteca.

The wheel was spinning stars for
the people of Mexica.

There were fires in tree tops too -
skies illumined.

It keeps turning - "and your little dog too."
"Sing it high, sing it low...the witch is dead."

Which witch?  Watch history's perspectives 
echo elusive answers.

Just keep skipping down the Ag brick road too
my darling, my dream.

No time to settle down in a _mesones_ museum.
Mausoleum fertilizer - don't even camp there.

Bangula eats little boys who are lazy.
Montezuma stoned by his own penumbra.

"Chajang, chajang, don't cry chicken
don't cry."

And don't be afraid if the baby wakes up.
There are to be fires burning in the womb."