The Modelos are Nice and Cold

 
My pops always seemed to be the life of the party  
A strong booming voice that could fill the room  
He had a hardy laugh like he heard the funniest thing  
And he could drink hard like he was in a saloon  
 
And when the cumbias came on the speakers  
He’d hit the floor and dance like nobody’s business  
He’d have fun because he loved the ambiance  
From birthdays and picnics all the way to Christmas  
 
At the stadium we would sit and drink in the stands  
He’d tell me stories when he used to play the game  
There was a sense of mystery and nostalgia in his eyes  
As if he had missed the opportunity to chase fame  
 
My dad worked hard but he played even harder  
And went to his grave swearing his love never grew old  
So, on this Día de Los Muertos when honor our dead  
I keep the Modelos on ice ‘cause he liked ‘em nice and cold