My guitar is unmasked,
It's a wetback, illegal and rebellious.
You cried as you watched me depart
It was ten years ago, in September.

Your strings opened up my wound.
So much work I collapsed.
To my children I cry, remember me,
Lift me up, guitars of the workers.
Guitar that crossed borders
Across the Rio Bravo and the Suchiate,
longing for the taste of metate.
My mother died without my embrace.

Guitar that awaits my return,
Atahualpa has told you his sorrows.
Guitars that have endured pandemics,
dictatorships, looting, progress.

My guitar knows pain.
She knows that I had to leave.
Poverty pushed me to go.
My guitar knows pain.

Guitar that crossed borders,
Across the Rio Bravo and the Suchiate,
Longing for the taste of metate.
My mother died without my embrace.

Guitar that awaits my return,
Atahualpa has told you his sorrows,
Guitars that have endured pandemics,
Dictatorships, looting, progress.

Guitarra bracera
Autor: FRANCISCO PALACIOS, SILVERIO JIMÉNEZ Y BETO CACAO
GUITARRA: SILVERIO JIMÉNEZ
VOZ FRANCISCO PALACIOS
CORO: SILVERIO JIMÉNEZ
GRABADO EN ; ESTUDIO EHECATL

Mi guitarra no usa crubebocas
Es mojada, ilegal y rebelde,
Me lloraste viendo mi partida
Fue hace diez años, era septiembre.

Despertaban tus cuerdas mi herida
Después de la labor derrumbarme,
A mis hijos llorar, acordarme,
Levántenme guitarras braceras.

Guitarra que cruzaste fronteras
Por Rio Bravo y por el Suchiate,
Añorando el sabor a metate
Mi viejita murió sin mi abrazo.

Guitarra que espera mi regreso
Atahualpa te ha dicho sus penas,
Guitarras que aguantaron pandemias,
Dictaduras, saqueos, progreso.


Mi guitarra conoce el dolor
Ella sabe que tuve que irme,
La pobreza me hizo salirme,
Mi guitarra conoce el dolor.

Guitarra que cruzaste fronteras
Por Rio Bravo y por el Suchiate,
Añorando el sabor a metate
Mi viejita murió sin mi abrazo.

Guitarra que espera mi regreso
Atahualpa te ha dicho sus penas,
Guitarras que aguantaron pandemias,
Dictaduras, saqueos, progreso.