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took off north and he returned with a masers degree
In what else? but music, yet he never really talked about it…
And I didn’t know he had music in his soul
What I saw was his concern for everybody born
In Lubbock, West Texas and around...
Billy was Texas bound…although he’d gone to Fargo,
North Dakota, I saw him there, and Wisconsin,
You figure it out, Billy was a forward scout for the Indios
Not for the cavalry of Uncle Sam…or anyone else close to the man…
Time went on and that was Billy
But he changed and one day he turned into Bidal
Like many people changed in West Texas
The quiet ones became loud, the meek ones became proud
And Raza, poor lost Raza, was not lost anymore
They stepped out as lions from their casa
And Billy – I mean Bidal, was in the middle of it all
As if he suddenly turned into an orchestra conductor
Only he had no instruments and never spoke of music
I never knew it then spoke of music
I never knew it then but we were all playing
For and with a master of fine arts, a virtuoso director
A natural Barrio conductor of the symphony of justice
This was no longer Billy the gordito I had met
This was Bidal…the music maker of our new Chicano times!
Bidal changed, and as he changed he changed the streets
He changed the way that people met and where they met
Oh, it was still to drink a beer, but it was where we met that things
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