Ballad: “The Ballad Of the Inca”
Talking about a festival for Inti,
A family of three plants potatoes a-plenty.
The end is near
The city of Nazca where they reside,
Is the place where they all died.
The end is near
A sweet fragrance is smelt,
A great rumbling is felt.
The end has arrived
The Spanish swarm the village,
And start their brutal pillage.
The end has arrived
Guns blasting, swords slashing,
The village was not ready for the bashing.
The end is brutal
The father was hacked, his head cut off,
The Spanish could only scoff.
The end is brutal
To escape was no avail,
As things began to derail.
They are all going to die
Trying to run, the mother was hacked,
Her body was left in a sack.
They are all going to die
The daughter left an orphan,
People cursing the gods often.
An era has ended
The enemy succeeded in their goal,
Now a family is not whole.
An era has ended