Mango en la Radio

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Yo llegué con barro en la suela, tú con un radio roto en la venda. The market woke up slow, real slow, and the mangoes were split like secrets. Mi madre said, “mira, no corras,” but the bus kept coughing smoke at dawn. I sold two pesos of peanuts, bought a flute from a man with one eye. (ay, mira) He played it over clay pots, over goats, over tin-sheet rain. And your laugh came back to me from the corner where the dominoes stain. Dime, ¿quién te enseñó a mirar así? Baby, who taught you that stubborn shine? You said, “nadie, I grew it myself,” while the elders clapped on two and five. [Verse 2] Now the avenue leans on the fence, and the old crate truck is skin and bone. I left with a sack and a song in my mouth, came back with a scar and a borrowed tone. High voice sang from the laundromat door, low voice answered from the mango tree: “Ven, ven, ven,” like a chain on stone, “stay, stay, stay,” like a prayer to me. Yo no vine a pedir perdón, I came to see what the fire kept. Your brother still mends the broken drum, your aunt still counts every step. And the children trace my name in dust, then erase it with a heel and grin. The river wears the moon in pieces, and the night folds hard, then folds again. [Bridge] Say my name, pero sin doler, say it sweet where the peppers hang. I was built from rust and Sunday heat, from a broken vow and a choir of cans. Oh, señora vida, déjame entrar, I’ve got mud on my tongue, I’ve got faith in my hands. You turn, I turn, the road turns too, and the whole town moves like a second chance.