Well I've packed all of my things into this blanket
Took all this year to earn Coyote's fare
Kiss my wife and kids goodbye
Choke back the quiver in my breath
And took my first steps into this corridor of death

If I'm lucky I will make it to a train
With 500 of my brothers
I will share the strain
Of standing in this boxcar, praying for rain
It's the only way we will quench our thirst

In these gardens of white crosses
Blowing in the California sand
In these gardens of white crosses
We are children of poverty, trying to make a stand

If we make it past the border, we will scatter
Vanish just like smoke in Autumn wind
I will run until my color will not matter
Hoping I can find some work, and possibly a friend
There are others who have made it here
They will show me how
To find a job, and a place to lay my head
And I cannot be concerned with dreams of my children
'Cuz there are 5 others in line for my bed

In these gardens of white crosses
Blowing in the California sand
In these gardens of white crosses
We are children of poverty, trying to make a stand

I will gladly pick your peaches
Or clean your hotel rooms
I will do the jobs, Americans won't do
With their cell phones to their heads
And seven hundred dollar shoes
I will risk my life, 'cuz it's all I have to lose

Met the Devil in the mountains
Promised me a ride
Found an 18-wheeler, put all of us inside
And just outside of victory, 19 of us died
But none of our bodies hit the floor

So my wife, she still wonders
When I'm coming home
The riches that I promised her
In leaving her alone
Said that I would send her all that I can save
But I ended up in California, in an unknown grave

In these gardens of white crosses
Blowing in the California sand
In these gardens of white crosses
We are children of poverty, dying to make a stand

In these gardens of white crosses
Blowing in the California sand
In these gardens of white crosses
We are children of poverty.....Dying to make a stand




Lyrics submitted by wuzufayan

White Crosses song meanings
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