Pablo

Glory be to the mothers
Famous and infamy-laden sons
Ones those were called Pablo
For it is a dangerous name
And yet a glorious one too
And O Mothers! Glory is yours.

Artists they have been
With colors they have played
Pastels and bullets, their pencils
But Picasso isn't the only name.

So who is Pablo Escobar my friend?
Where does he lie when the guitar plays?
Along the shores of blue and grey
Amidst the files and burnt evidence
You dug deep for the fountain's base
Where does he ride when the guitar plays?