I used to weld for tyrants
Now I only work for migrants.
I make a mean tamale, fool.
We must look out for pirates.

If any of them see us
Then they will prob’ly eat us
And all of my tamales too!
And that is why they seek us!

So now that we are eaten
Are we also defeated?
For I can only see the moon
Is Heaven o’er or beneath us?