I was a young boy in Mexico, watched my family die.
Taken by the tide, hot & blue & knives.
I got away in the family car, the backseat stained with blood
It was my sister's blood, she was my sister.
Freedom don't cost a thing a man said in some stripes.
Red, not blue & white, birds chained to the sky.
When I reached the borderline, thought I heard my father cry.
We were at the borderline, we were at the border.
& It was cold, it was cold that night.
We were sold, we were sold, no rights.
I was crucified under my father's word.
The sun sets over Hell bent land.
People close their eyes & rest their heads.
They kneel beside their beds
It's just a sacrament.
Oh, you can still repent, it's just a sacrament.
"Years can pass & you can learn not a Goddamn thing or you can change for the better."
I wrote these words on a train to Los Angeles in a letter.
Now the soil is right, don't let the flowers die.
Don't let the flowers die, don't blame the weather.
But it was cold, it was cold that night.
We were sold, we were sold, we were sold, no rights.
I think we paid the price, I think we paid the price.
I was crucified under my father's word.
I think we pay the price.
I think we all pay the price.
It was cold, It was cold that night.
credits
from Champagne Forest (Demos),
released June 30, 2012
Words, Vocals, Acoustic Guitar: Andrew Sisneros
Acoustic Bass: Mac Parmelee
Drums: Connor Griffiths
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