Rosa’s Coronas

Como estas? My name is Rosa and like my mother before me
Everyday I roll cigars and they're the finest in the world
To pass the time the reader reads about the violence in America
And I pray for my daughter and her baby girl

Late one night they took a boat ninety miles from Havana
To escape the only life I've ever known
She could have been just like me, a well-respected working woman
Who believes in her country and her home

And I wonder as I roll where will each one go
Will they land in the hands of kings and presidents
It's an art, it's a skill, and some would even kill
Just for one of Rosa's coronas

It's everywhere in the news that John Paul is on his way
And for years I've longed to see the Holy Father's parade
We've been told not to go or production falls behind
But I know the quota won't be made that day