Well I packed all of my things into this blanket
|
To call this year to earn coyotes fill
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Kiss my wife and kids goodbye choke back the quiver in my breath
|
And took my first steps into this corridor of death
|
|
If I뭢 lucky I will make it to a drain
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With 500 of my brothers, I would share the strain
|
Of standing in this boxcar praying for rain
|
It뭩 the only the way we will quench our thirst
|
|
[Chorus:]
|
In these gardens of white crosses
|
Growing in the California sand
|
In these gardens of white crosses
|
We are the children of poverty trying to a make a stand
|
|
If we make it past the border, we will scatter
|
Vanish just like smoke in autumn wind
|
I will run until my color will not matter
|
Hopin?I can find some work or possibly a friend
|
|
There are others who have made it here
|
They will show me how to find a job and a place to lay my head
|
And I cannot be concerned with dreams of my children
|
For there are 5 others in line for my bed
|
|
[Chorus:]
|
In these gardens of white crosses
|
Growing in the California sand
|
In these gardens of white crosses
|
We are the children of poverty trying to a make a stand
|
|
I will gladly pick your peaches or clean your hotel rooms
|
I will do the jobs American won뭪 do
|
With cell phones to their heads and $700 dollar shoes
|
I will risk my life 멵ause it뭩 all I have to lose
|
|
Let the devil in the mountains promise me a ride
|
Found an 18 wheeler and put all of us inside
|
And just outside of victory, 19 of us died
|
None of our bodies hit the floor
|
|
And so my wife she still wonders when I뭢 coming home
|
The riches that I promised her for leaving her alone
|
I said I would send her all that I could save
|
But I ended up in California in an unknown grave
|
|
[Chorus:]
|
In these gardens of white crosses growing in the California sand
|
In these gardens of white crosses we are the children of poverty trying to a make a stand
|
[repeat]
|
|
-----------------
|
White Crosses
|
| Edwin McCain |
