La Huella
Quilapayún
The Footprint
To the footprint, to the footprint,
let's go, cart driver,
leave the cart
heading to the town.
And we will have women
guitar and sugarcane,
we will cross the night
with a whip.
I have seen many shacks
and only one hurts me
but I swear, buddy,
that the roads help me.
To the footprint, to the footprint,
let's go, cart driver,
breaking through the night
we will arrive.
On the nail lit
I carry the evening star,
whipping the oxen
with a luxury of bells.
Cart driver and old cart
at the blows of the road,
how hard it is for the poor
help her with a whistle.
