Trespassers (闯入者) - Builder Of The House

Maria take my hand

As we 'cross this desert land

And may god be with us

To the promised land

Knowing not

What will come

Beneath the warm Sonoran sun

Maybe peace

Maybe death

Maybe both

Maria don't look home

The only place we've ever known

Close your eyes

And see that we are not alone

I don't know which is worse

Repeating the same sad verse

Or abandoning the old familiar song

God show us the place where we belong

You drew

A line

On paper

Neighbor

But the boundaries they

They mean nothing

To the soul

Oh ohoh ohh

Smell of blood in the sand

From the cartel's reprimands

Oh the ground it aches and moans

It aches and moans

Southern wind

Tells a tale

With a liquor scented gale

That says you are not welcome

Turn around and run

Yeah get off my property

Or I'll get my gun

Drew

A line

On paper

Neighbor

But you can't control

The migration

Of a soul

Oh ohh ah ah

Ah ah ah ha

Ya ya ya

Maria take my hand

As we 'cross the Rio Grande

The north expanse is

What my fathers called homeland

Fleeing south from the war

Now fleeing north from the outlaws

The line has shifted

Several times within the sand

I would love for them to see

Their callous hypocrisy

Squatters sitting

On my old man's property

You don't own what you steal

Let alone your neighbor's yield

And we are brothers

We are brothers

We are

I am you

You are me

We're one messed up family

All God's children

Running violently amuck

I think it's time

For all God's children to grow up