Mi padre fue un trabajador migrante / Daddy Was a Migrant Worker
Mi padre fue un trabajador migrante
Words and music by Andrés Salguero • Letra y música por Andrés Salguero
Mi padre fue un migrante, un trabajador migrante.
Fuimos a tantos lugares. Vivimos en tantos hogares.
Mi madre fue una migrante, una trabajadora migrante.
Y tantos lugares hallamos, donde trabajarán sus manos.
Sus manos morenas, sus manos tan buenas.
Mi padre fue un migrante, un trabajador migrante.
Por tantos campos y avenidas le fuimos ganando a la vida.
Y con su alegría y empeño, construyeron este sueño, que luego yo cosecharía, así como ellos recogían…
Manzanas, lechugas, naranjas, verduras
Cosecharon para mí. Cosecharon para todos.
Ellos recogieron las frutas con las manos, y echaron raíces y aquí nos quedamos.
Los recuerdo cada día, cuando ellos recogían…
Manzanas, lechugas, naranjas, verduras
Cosecharon para mí. Cosecharon para todos.
Daddy Was a Migrant Worker
Words and music by Andrés Salguero • Letra y música por Andrés Salguero
Daddy was a migrant worker. Mommy was a migrant worker.
We would travel all around. Our house was any town.
Daddy was a farm worker. Mommy was a farm worker.
We would go across the land, wherever they needed their hands, their working hands, their honest hands.
Daddy was a migrant worker. Mommy was a migrant worker.
We would cross so many highways. We would go so many places.
With their hands they picked the food.
With their hands they built a dream, a dream that I would harvest.
I think of them every time I eat…
Apples, lettuce, oranges, veggies.
They were picking food for me.
They were picking food for everyone.
Mom and Daddy picked vegetables and fruits, and along the way they put down their roots.
They were picking food for you and me.
I think of them every time I eat…
Apples, lettuce, oranges, veggies.
They were picking food for me.
They were picking food for everyone.