One reason I never considered being a cop. At some point I would break discipline and force feed that donut to the idiot waving it in my face.
Meanwhile, with English translation afterwards:
Juanito's Corrido (lyrics by Eden Muñoz)
It has been almost 14 years
since I was in my homeland,
where I was born.
Now everything's different
and I pray to God
they never forget me.
My mother died
and my father says
that he is really old now
and he doesn't want to come,
and I can't go there,
and I can't go there.
I've been working and working,
I haven't seen
the sun for days.
My sons are grown ups now
and I can't understand them
because they don't speak Spanish.
You don't know what fear is
if you have never seen
an Immigration van
or a deportation,
or a deportation.
Wearing my little boots and my hat
they see me often
by the freeway.
Gardener, cook,
I do it all the same.
"Anyway", as they say.
And even if they look down at me
I keep my head up
while I drink from a bottle.
Either way I'm a good friend
and a Mexican,
Mexican to the bone.
Life is not easy,
much less here,
what they say it's not true.
Just to remember
the thousand crosses
I saw in the desert.
Nights are sad,
thinking over and over
about the ones who left behind
the time passes.
And thinking about seeing my old man,
about seeing my old man.
I am more than grateful
to God
for everything he has given me.
I send my greetings
to all my cousins,
my uncles and my brothers.
With sad eyes
and tired steps,
Juanito promises
he will be visiting them
and hugging them,
and hugging them.
Wearing my little boots and my hat
they see me often
by the freeway.
Gardener, cook,
I do it all the same.
"Anyway", as they say.
And even if they look down at me
I keep my head up
while I drink from a bottle.
Either way I'm a good friend
and a Mexican,
Mexican to the bone.