I remember running the dusty plains
Nestled in the mountain near my town
The memories flow inundating my thoughts
When I think of you quaint Barranquitas
They were years of childish playing and fun
We chased sugar cane laden trucks struggling to climb
Pulling the stalks from the back of the truck
And throwing them to the side of the road
As darkness fell, we played hide and seek
We played until we were called to come and eat
Barranquitas was my boyhood playground—
A place to run, fly kites, and rivers swim.