The Pusher

The pusher was born close to the border

and never went by the same name.

Chicas, they called him jose, but

he also went by padre, luis, johnny,

to him it was all the same.



He was an easy going fellow,

simple, and never spent beyond his means.

He had a beach bungalow,

surfed three times a week,

and always wore the same pair of jeans.



Known mostly for his product

and as a connoisseur I can attest

that no matter where you travelled

or whomever you met

big daddy Johhny had the best.



He had a hearty laugh and loved animals

but never had a wife.

He loved playing cards, drinking cerveza

and telling stories by the fire.

He never really had an enemy in his life.



He kept all of his money in a knapsack

hidden in a cubbyhole under his bed.

He was not much of a worker,

slept away most of his days.

But when he went missing no one assumed he was dead.



They found his body by the bridge near Solona.

He had been deceased for about a week.

His story it would have gone untold,

just another illegal murdered by his own.

If I didn't have the nerve to speak.