Mariana's Table

歌詞

out on highway 215 the trucks are hauling wheat grain apples, soy beans, good red wine to the docks at Ensenada the camioneros sit up high and smoke their black tobacco in another hour they'll shift it down and pull off for the night down the road, not far now Mariana's just arriving with her empanadas and coolers full of cold cold beer there's a stand of eucalyptus trees just this side of Brandsen in harvest season, rain or shine, she's out there every night one-by-one they rumble in, rattling like Panzers and raising dust clouds, raising hell in 30 year-old Benzes they descend like generals whose victory's all but certain they stroll through camp rallying for one last push it's getting late, it's time to go, the southern cross is rising Mariana's work is done, at least until tomorrow anyone who's still awake is over by the fire where the talk is all of China's rise, and the latest from the union which they'd gladly die for if ever they were called to but for now they're just turning and waving as she drives away