Remember the signs we used to carry:

Huelga! Heulga!

Remember how we drench ourselves

In green, red, and white,

How we marched behind

The Virgen de Guadalupe

With our fists in the air.

Those were the good old days.

We were so young back then.

Now we are old and wrinkled,

Both barely able to see.

Just tired old folks,

You in your rocker,

The picture of a man watching

The neighborhood go by,

Me sifting through the letter

That our son sent us just the other day.

He says he's doing fine,

Graduated top of his class

And went to work with some law firm.

The boy's got spirit,

Just like you when you were that young.

Remember those days?

That's when we met,

Marching together in the same crowd.

Yes, that boy has spirit.

It's a shame he doesn't visit us

Like he used to.