Mom and dad have worked the fields, I don't know how many years
I'm just a boy but I know how, and go to school when work is slow
We have seen our country's road, Bakersfield from Illinois
And when troubles come our way, oh yeah, I've seen my daddy pray.
There's something wrong with little sister, I hear her cryin' by my side
Mama's shaking as she holds her; we try to hold her through the night
And mom says close you eyes mijito, dream of someplace far from here
Like the pictures in your schoolbooks, someday you can take us there
There must be something in the rain
I'm not sure what that means
Abuelita talks of sins of man, of dust that's in our hands
There must be something in the rain
well what else could cause this pain
Those airplanes cure the plants so things can grow
Oh no, it must be something in the rain
Little sister's gone away. Mama's workin' long again
And me I think I understand about our life about our land
Well, talkers talk and dreamers dream; I will find a place between
I'm afraid but I believe that we can change these hurting fields
Cause there's something in the rain but there's more here in our hands
'Buelita's right about the sins of man who's profits rape the land
And the rains are pouring down from the growers to the towns
And until we break the killing chains
There's something in the rain
I'm just a boy but I know how, and go to school when work is slow
We have seen our country's road, Bakersfield from Illinois
And when troubles come our way, oh yeah, I've seen my daddy pray.
There's something wrong with little sister, I hear her cryin' by my side
Mama's shaking as she holds her; we try to hold her through the night
And mom says close you eyes mijito, dream of someplace far from here
Like the pictures in your schoolbooks, someday you can take us there
There must be something in the rain
I'm not sure what that means
Abuelita talks of sins of man, of dust that's in our hands
There must be something in the rain
well what else could cause this pain
Those airplanes cure the plants so things can grow
Oh no, it must be something in the rain
Little sister's gone away. Mama's workin' long again
And me I think I understand about our life about our land
Well, talkers talk and dreamers dream; I will find a place between
I'm afraid but I believe that we can change these hurting fields
Cause there's something in the rain but there's more here in our hands
'Buelita's right about the sins of man who's profits rape the land
And the rains are pouring down from the growers to the towns
And until we break the killing chains
There's something in the rain
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