Comes Vagantes ... sometimes no one and sometimes All. Sometimes we are kings, sometimes beggars. We are smoke and mirrors. We are invisible today, tomorrow we will highlight the whole plan. We are the minstrels of the Count of Hoya! When the brass bands and bagpipes sound, when the drums begin their inferno, the whole market shakes. We tell you of the past, our bagpipes light the fire in your soul, the drums float in your bones and bodies! We are the wanderers of the last days, the dancers of the free World.