5 to 9 - The Riot Before

Tired muscles, tired eyes

Can’t sleep through this Oaxacan night

He’s kept away from dreaming, haunted by thoughts of failing

The family whom he shares a bed

A tiny room even less bread

He cries out to himself silently

I am not a man

I can’t feed my children

This is no life for them

So he’s out of bed with the sunrise

He kisses his wife and kids goodbye

Then heads north to the border

To work, become a provider

But gathered at the country line

Are protesters all holding signs

He can’t read but translates perfectly

I am not a man

I’m just a Mexican

Illegal immigrant

The politicians the pundits the public debate

But one question’s lost in policy

«Is a man not a man if he’s born outside a boundary?»

Stumbling through the desert alone and afraid

He almost dies from the heat

But he thinks of his family and that keeps him going

He won’t stop for death least the laws of a country

Arrested is no threat when you’re already living unfree

So he works the fields from 5 to 9

Plus any job that he can find

Saves up all his money, sends it to his family

Before he falls asleep at night

A thousand miles from his life

He assuredly repeats

I am a human

A father a husband

A global citizen

Not a debatable statistic

I’m not your problem economic

I’m not a threat to patriotic

That’s idiotic

I am a…