| My name, it is Maria
|
| My daughter is a dreamer
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| She says that she is worried
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| That she will have to leave
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| When I was only twenty
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| I crossed the burning border
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| I came to find a good life
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| And brought my daughter here
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| When I came to America
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| I hoped life would be better
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| For me and for my daughter
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| And here I worked for you
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| I harvested the peaches
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| In Northern California
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| And then in Colorado
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| My family and me
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| This land was made by dreamers
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| And children of those dreamers
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| We came here for democracy and hope
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| Now all we have is hope
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| My husband is a good man
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| He is no raping criminal
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| His hands are rough and scarred now
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| From digging in the earth
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| My daughter loves her father
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| And he was always gentle
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| He too came from Jalisco
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| To find what freedom’s worth
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| But will you send her back now
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| To live in fear and terror
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| She is our only daughter
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| Whose dreams have been our vow
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| We worked to pay our way here
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| We gave our youth and promise
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| And in return you force us
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| To go back to the wall
|
| This land was made by dreamers
|
| And children of those dreamers
|
| We came here for democracy and hope
|
| Now all we have is hope
|
| My name, it is Maria
|
| My daughter is a dreamer
|
| She says that she is worried
|
| That she will have to leave |