Y tu, ¿quien te crees? ¿Que Eres mas major de me?
And you, who do you think you are? That you are better than yo? More deserving than we?
¿Y tu, quien eres? And who are you?
Can love mend this?
What’s been broken for so long, can we end this? Do you even want to?
¿Y tu, quien eres? And who are you?
You painted the picture that I am lazy and that I am a fool, that my people are drug dealers and rapists and they almost believed you.
My hopes and dreams were drowned – by my own tears and your expectations. Lloré
Y con tu lápiz, escribistes que yo no puedo pensar mas que la amor que tiengo, que estoy, y que llevo.
Those expectations you pushed on me are erased. I tear it, rip it, shred it- destroyed your words with my actions.
No lloren for me, as I’ve rebuilt my dreams, block by block.
Things are changing, I am changing. Transmutation. Lloras.
And who do you think you are? That you are more than me? That you deserve more than we?
¿And you quien te crees? That eres mas de nosotros?
I won’t settle for less than what we deserve. No me conformaré con menos de yo merezco.
We live in worlds unaccepted, unwanted- a forced discard, Even with a mano full of aces you say we lose.
Y tu, ¿quien te crees? Where do you think your food comes from?
Whose hands lovingling picked that vegetable you shove in your face you glutonous cavron?
My people, the mighty Mexican that may have crossed the boarder or that the border crossed us, cavron,
picked that food you eat.
We’ve touched everything. Without us, you’d starve.
I live in many worlds uninvited, held back and defeated before I even had a chance to start.
For one second- if we could just switch places.
I hope I would offer what I desire the most… what we desire as a people.
The warmth of amor, the safety and opportunity of libertad, y los mismos rights que tienes – igualdad.
I’d deal a winning hand for all at my table. Why are our tables so different?
Pero eso no es verdad…it’s not true, it’s just a dream.
But I’m building my dreams block by pinche block. Because we are a people who aren’t afraid of hard work. We are a people who the sun has kissed and the moon and saints guide to our destination.
Sweet as brown sugar, delicious as pan dulces and it’s our tortillas that fill your fat belly on taco Tuesdays cavron. See, we have always been at your table. You just didn’t know it.
La pinche tortilla que comes, that’s us. That’s my mom and her Amas before her.
The corn, the chile, los tomatoes, the strawberries, only to name a few.
Those were picked by the hardworking, beautiful brown hand of the Mighty Mexican.
Created are worlds of my own, a table of our own, and of your own. And the question really is can they exist in harmony? Will you allow them to? Will you stop breaking up our families?
I had to let it happen, I had to erase your expectations of we, and I had to choose and I choose me. I choose the Mexican that is in my spirit, on my brown skin, that fills my veins, and looks back at me in the mirror every morning.
I choose the Mexican that I see in all the little brown faces I see. I choose them and their future.
¿Y tu, quien eres? And who are you?
I chose freedom. Libertad. Liberty. I choose me. I choose we.
I won’t settle for less than what we deserve. No me conformaré con menos de lo que merecemos.
We can create a table, a world, un mundo que todos pueden, that all are invited to.
Freedoms from shore to shining shore? Con every grain of pinche sand?
We bet our Brown asses on it. We vote our Brown asses on it.
We create, because in the face of adversity, we create and extend our hands back to the others coming behind us; just like our ancestors did.
¿Y ustedes, who do you think you are?
We want the same things as you do…amor and opportunity.
America, we still want your love, be gracious, be kind, be considerate.
I give you me, amor, equality- don’t keep your distance.
For I wouldn’t switch you places. I want to share a table, not take yours from you.
For these desires are not illusions, they are basic human rights and love is real. El amor es real.
El amor está aquí…inside of you…inside of me.
Touch it, I taste it, I feel it, I live it, I love it. Tócalo, me gusto, me siento, me encanta.
After all these years I still want your love.
America, Después de todos estos años todavía quiero tu amor.
Love, amor, lov-mor, love y amor.
Can you love more? Can we love more? Can you stop hurting my people?
Te amo y espero que me amas. No mantendrá la distancia porque te amo.
Y tu, ¿quien te crees? ¿Que Eres mas major de me?
And you, who do you think you are? That you are better than me? More deserving than we?
¿Y tu, quien eres? And who are you?
For I am Love, I am the Mexican and I vote.
