| Traveled seven hundred miles
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| Crossed the border to the States
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| With a plastic bottle running
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| Cross the desert in a shake
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| Come to English only country
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| Hidin' from the minutemen
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| Come to make this place my home
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| Run a long, long way from then
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| Story of a lifetime
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| For the minimum wage
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| Well, they chased me through the desert
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| Then the agents strapped me down
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| Then they ask me why in Spanish
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| Why you keep on comin' back?
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| When I left my dad in Jersey
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| And my sister in Des Moines
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| They’ve been workin' in this country
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| Pickin' lettuce, washing floors
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| Story of a lifetime
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| For the minimum wage
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| Well, they raised me to eight dollars
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| 'Cause I washed the dishes fast
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| Well, the boss, he got me workin'
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| On the porch and in the back
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| Then I wash the dish and rinse it
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| Then I go home late and sleep
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| Well, I need to be awake now
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| 'Cause I walk out in my sleep
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| When I see that black van comin'
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| Then I know I’m sure to run
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| Goddamn them agents caught me
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| Cuffed me on the spot
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| For the minimum wage
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| No one forced the boss to hire me
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| But it’s nearly been fifteen
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| When I left my baby cryin'
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| With a promise in my skin
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| On the outskirts of L. A
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| I recite a native poem
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| Million hands, ten thousand years
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| It’s the season for the crop
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| It’s my people doin' the pickin'
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| In the valley of the dolls
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| It’s a decent job to work at
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| Any day I’ll take this job
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| Ethiopian, Colombian, Pakistani, Cantonese
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| Every man that I run into
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| All the kitchens on the strip
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| And they’re pluggin' in them hours
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| Smilin' in their dreams
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| They´re a long, long way from home now
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| But they lookin' to be free
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| California, Alabama and Missouri, Oregon
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| They been workin' like their fathers were
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| A long, long time ago
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| For the minimum wage
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| For the minimum wage
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| For the minimum wage
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| For, for, for, for the minimum wage
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| It’s a bumpy road to ride in
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| But I’ll take it anytime
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| It’s a bumpy road to take
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| But I’ll take it day
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| It’s a bumpy road to take
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| But I’ll take it anytime
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| For the minimum wage |