[Verse]
In the hills of old Durango, where the stories tend to roam,
Candles light the vigil for the loved ones not at home.
October ends with shadows, kids in masks and candy sweet,
But November brings a reverence, where the living and dead meet.
[Verse 2]
Little children gather on the first, sugar skulls in hand,
Dancing through the night in a sacred, joyful band.
Marigolds and laughter, decorating each tombstone,
Holding hearts wide open as they love each soul once known.
[Chorus]
El Día de los Muertos, when the veil is so thin,
Honoring the spirits of our bloodline, our kin.
With photos and ofrendas, our memories are steeped,
In the heart of Mexico, where traditions are deep.
[Verse 3]
November brings the elders, on the sacred second day,
Families tell their stories, in the most sincere way.
From the youngest to the oldest, every whispered prayer and song,
Binds the living to the departed, in a bond that's lifelong.
[Verse 4]
Pan de muerto on the table, sweet and round like life’s wheel,
Offerings to our ancestors, who know just how we feel.
Incense burning gently, in the twilight's tender glow,
Guiding spirits safely, to the love they've always known.
[Chorus]
El Día de los Muertos, when the veil is so thin,
Honoring the spirits of our bloodline, our kin.
With photos and ofrendas, our memories are steeped,
In the heart of Mexico, where traditions are deep.