Como estas? My name is Rosa and like my mother before me Everyday I roll cigars and they're the finest in the world To pass the time the reader reads about the violence in America And I pray for my daughter and her baby girl
Late one night they took a boat ninety miles from Havana To escape the only life I've ever known She could have been just like me, a well-respected working woman Who believes in her country and her home
And I wonder as I roll where will each one go Will they land in the hands of kings and presidents It's an art, it's a skill, and some would even kill Just for one of Rosa's coronas
It's everywhere in the news that John Paul is on his way And for years I've longed to see the Holy Father's parade We've been told not to go or production falls behind But I know the quota won't be made that dayTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
