Pachito
Era un hombre de mi tierra
De esta tierra sin igual
Que tocaba su guitarra
Le gustaba parrandear
Todos le decían Pachito
Era un hombre bien cabal
Le gustaba que su chata
Le escuchara su cantar
Y llevaba serenata
A las puertas de su hogar
La última vez que a Pachito
Visité, fue en el panteón
Ahí estaban cuatro sirios
Ahí estaba en su cajón
Fue buen hombre
Fue mi amigo
Fue Pachito
Es canción
En el patio de su casa
Florecido está un clavel
Con agüita de sus ojos
Siempre lo riega Isabel
Con agüita de sus ojos
Siempre lo riega Isabel
Su amor fue Pachito Campo
A él le sigue siendo fiel
Qué bonito que hay amores
Y hay amigos como él
Se llamó Francisco Campo
Al que le canta Manuel
Pachito
He was a man from my hometown
From this one-of-a-kind place
Who played his guitar
Loved to party all night
Everyone called him Pachito
He was a real stand-up guy
He loved for his girl
To hear him sing his song
And he’d bring serenades
To the door of his home
The last time I saw Pachito
I visited him at the graveyard
There were four mourners there
And he was in his coffin
He was a good man
He was my friend
He was Pachito
This is his song
In the yard of his house
A carnation blooms bright
With the tears from his eyes
Isabel waters it right
With the tears from his eyes
Isabel waters it right
His love was Pachito Campo
And she’s still true to him
How beautiful it is to have love
And friends like him
His name was Francisco Campo
The one Manuel sings about