Bajo El Cielo de Morelia

One morning in March
At the Morelia bus station
I tore the ticket like a tough guy
To head to the border
Just by seeing so beautiful
The blue sky of my land

Then I heard a bell
That was calling for mass
The Morelia cathedral
A precious and traditional gem
Saw a woman praying
With no comfort on her face

It was my old lady Maria
Praying a creed for me
She even cried with joy
When I told her I'm staying
In this land, my divine one
Under its beautiful sky

Her little eyes were looking at me
My old lady thought it was a miracle
Then we went on our way
To take a stroll by the lake
And when I was in Janitzio
I forgot about the other side

Under the Morelia sky
No one has died of hunger
Here I stay in my land
Very close to my mother
And my old lady Maria
I'll never be separated again

Goodbye lovely San Francisco
Los Angeles and Chicago
I stay in the paradise
That I had despised so much
After all, I didn't get rich
When I was a wetback