We are all mojados in the promised land
We’ll cross that bright river today
All our backs will be wet when we finally stand
At the throne of God someday.
Nobody’s thirsty in the promised land
Coyote can’t steal your soul
Buzzards don’t glide over desert sands
There is no border patrol.
There are no migra at the pearly gates
No fake ID’s to buy
They don’t take your money and leave you to fate
You can’t get caught in a lie.
You won’t get deported from the promised land
You cross over there, you are home
It’s our place to build and our place to stand
Heaven to earth, kingdom come.
“Mojados in the Promised Land”: words by Jim Burklo and Lisa Atkinson, music by Lisa Atkinson and George Kincheloe, on “Connie’s Songbird”, CD by Lisa Atkinson, www.atkinsonkincheloe.com, reprinted with permission.
[Ed. “Mojados” means “wetback,” as in illegal immigrant.]