Huerta

Don't know much about my mother's side Never got to feel my grandfather's pride I wasn't even an idea when he died I just know that our name means garden A fertile land Why leave it all behind to be American? Why don't I speak Spanish? There are so many things I want to ask About the life I could've had I could've been I could've been I could've been a farmer in the grasslands I could've been I could've been I could've been a tubist in a corrido band I could've been I could've been I could've been a telenovela stunt man Don't want to be Don't want to be Just don't want to be another dull American But heritage is such a funny thing Rose tinted glasses, tire swings, and wedding rings I never knew how much you drank I wonder if that's why my mother won't partake And I if I ever see El Torreon Will they smile and say son you're finally home Or confirm what I feared all along I have no culture, no place No land to call my own I could've been I could've been I could've been a farmer in the grasslands I could've been I could've been I could've been a tubist in a corrido band I could've been I could've been I could've been a telenovela stunt man Don't want to be Don't want to be Just don't want to be another dull American Romanticize it to death But don't hold your breath Romanticize it to death But don't hold your breath Romanticize it to death But don't hold your breath Romanticize it to death But don't hold your breath I could've been I could've been I could've been the worst drunk you'd ever meet I could've been I could've been I could've been a white collar in a box seat I could've been I could've been I could've been a beggar in the cold streets Don't want to be Don't want to be Just don't want to be feeling so incomplete