Author: El Mariachi Muerte

“Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.   Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do

“Strung out and broken, They all waste away. Picks up the bottle, Drinks it down before she hits the stage.” There is no more crushing feeling than being expendable. Like the strings of my guitar, playing not out of one's own accord, but waiting

“He’s got the whole world in his hands. He’s got the whole wide world in his hands. He’s got the whole world in his hands. He’s got the whole world in his

“Heavy is the head that wears no crown It's lonely at the top when you're looking down” I can still hear his words echo in my memory. “Estamos atados por la música. Manténlo seguro

“Well I don’t know why I came here tonight. This Altar, it doesn’t feel right. Desperately, I need the music repaired And I’m wondering how Arcadia will fare.   When there’s death to the left of me, Brokenness to the right. Here I am, Stuck in the middle

Her music was beautiful, La Mariachi Alegría. She was one of those Mariachi that could transport you through a journey of song. In hearing her play, I found that music was much like climbing a ladder, mi amigos. Rung by

‘People talking without speaking People hearing without listening People writing songs that voices never share No one dared Disturb the sound of silence’ “Silence is golden, or so they say.” “But when the universe breathes in dulcet tones of an eternal melody, silence is anything but

A single whistled note pierces the air for a moment before spluttering and passing away. Choked and fading into nothingness. “La musica?” El Mariachie Muerte tries again, his whistle living for a moment before dying into the bleak. Muerte’s sorrow is caught

A slow haunting melody is hummed by a single voice. The body of Damien Wolfe lies upon blood-soaked canvas. El Mariachi Muerte draws near and kneels beside the massacred body. He places a rose upon Damien’s chest as he hums his

https://open.spotify.com/track/5pZWWNVotdSMynW3kTooSY?si=k9xl0khARuuuuLY3sBeG6A A sorrow-filled El Mariachi Muerte sits, head bowed as his fingers pick out a slow melody on his guitar. His melodic voice sings out a dreary ballad. ‘Oh lament, oh lament. Mi amigo, I trusted in you