La Bocina
vivir en el campo
en el campo triste
que suenan bocinas
que las toco yo
que días tan bellos pasaba con ella
porque yo le amaba con toda ternura
por ella lloré
por ella lloré
por eso viajero
si acaso la encuentras
dile que sin ella
ya no existo yo
porque para el indio
basta su bocina
que toca y retumba al morir el sol
al morir el sol
en el campo triste
que suenan bocinas
que las toco yo
que días tan bellos pasaba con ella
porque yo le amaba con toda ternura
por ella lloré
por ella lloré
por eso viajero
si acaso la encuentras
dile que sin ella
ya no existo yo
porque para el indio
basta su bocina
que toca y retumba al morir el sol
al morir el sol
Credits
Writer(s): Inga Velez Jose Rudecindo
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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