Well it is not that far The smuggler said You walk north one day Across la cabeza prieta Just keep walking to interstate eight Well they walked that day The next And the next And the water it ran out one by one Ay mijitos They looked like dried leaves Scattered in the sun Oh my dear ones We are lost Well it is so far away From the lowlands of veracruz To the desert up north of sonora Where they strung out in ones and twos They got twelve lines In a midwestern paper On the pages with the ads for shoes Well they were fourteen men They got lost in the desert They were migrants They got twelve lines of news Pull together, my brothers, pull together We are burning Pull together, my brothers, pull together The devil is pa**ing They got twelve lines In a midwestern paper On the pages with the ads for shoes They were fourteen men They got lost in the desert They were migrants They got twelve lines of news Oh my dear ones We are lost