My grandpa told me a story in times of scarcity when down the river to fill the jars and then ascended
the slopes filled by the city.They were radiant summer days and our river was for them a beach
enjoyed eating there in fried fish stalls. Closed the eyes and turn their faces into the wind.There he
met cheerful Mary coming down fetching water for drinking they sealed their love with caresses and
kisses he gave her a ring that made, them forever free.On a cloudy day both were bathing, a swirl
of water swallowed her she drowned and never turned to see and nothing more was known of that
ring.Now they say in this river wanders her spirit, crying and looking for that ring, on cold winter nights
chasing that love or sleep.And he said: Run Run Run looking for the ring now Run Run Run watching
the river flow. Never surrender my love lost there around, Run Run Run also my soul fell down.Safe
drinking water became scarce. I went to buy and crossed by an old bridge wandering past a river
bank ring appeared in an old, bottle of bleach.Now the only fun thing left is to go take bread to the
ducks and fish, toxic waste kills our river (and) pollution is guilty and only I have what my grandpa
told me. Now they say in this river wanders her spirit, crying and looking for that ring, on cold winter
nights chasing that love or sleep. And he said: Run Run Run looking for the ring now Run Run Run
watching the river flow. Never surrender my love lost there around, Run Run Run also my soul fell down.