.Tu y yo en el balcon
Que asoma a los plantios de platano
Los patrones han muerto y tu
Aun sigues trapeando el piso de ajedrez
Ven aca desde aqui se logra ver>
Todas las tierras que ahora nuestras son
Y un sambo el heredero sera
Pues de un indio y una negra eso da.
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