From Guatamala to Honduras,
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
Bread is short and so is rice too,
Long time since you tasted meat,
While the Yankee bleeds your country
It's hard to find enough to eat.
Life is cruel, work scarce to come by
Scratch a living from the land,
Macdonalds, Exxon, Coca Cola
Snatch the wages from your hand.
From Guatamala to Honduras,
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
Kids play barefoot in the dirt track,
Kick a football in the air,
Their joy for life and smiling faces
Keep their mothers from despair;
But not for them no education,
No hoping for a better way,
They're growing to a life of poverty
Just like the night it follows day.
From Guatamala to Honduras,
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
Living on the edge of cities,
In run down shacks and shanty towns,
While Yankee military advisers
Occupy the finest grounds;
No running water, sanitation,
No medical care for the poor,
Young people forced to prostitution,
Yankee sailors on these shores.
From Guatamala to Honduras,
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
From Guatamala to Honduras,
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
Bread is short and so is rice too,
Long time since you tasted meat,
While the Yankee bleeds your country
It's hard to find enough to eat.
Life is cruel, work scarce to come by
Scratch a living from the land,
Macdonalds, Exxon, Coca Cola
Snatch the wages from your hand.
From Guatamala to Honduras,
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
Kids play barefoot in the dirt track,
Kick a football in the air,
Their joy for life and smiling faces
Keep their mothers from despair;
But not for them no education,
No hoping for a better way,
They're growing to a life of poverty
Just like the night it follows day.
From Guatamala to Honduras,
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
Living on the edge of cities,
In run down shacks and shanty towns,
While Yankee military advisers
Occupy the finest grounds;
No running water, sanitation,
No medical care for the poor,
Young people forced to prostitution,
Yankee sailors on these shores.
From Guatamala to Honduras,
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
From Guatamala to Honduras,
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
inviata da Riccardo Venturi - 4/8/2005 - 11:38
Lingua: Italiano
Versione italiana di Kiocciolina
CONDUCETE GLI YANKEE FUORI DALLA VOSTRA PORTA
Dal Guatemala all'Honduras,
Dalle Filippine al Salvador,
Le persone combattono per la loro libertà,
Per condurre gli Yankee fuori dalla loro porta.
Il pace è scarso, e così il riso,
E' passato tempo da quando avete mangiato carne,
Mentre gli Yankee dissanguano il vostro paese
E' difficile trovare abbastanza da mangiare.
La vita è crudele, il lavoro è difficile che arrivi
Sopravvivendo con difficoltà,
MacDonalds, Exxon, Coca Cola
Strappano gli stipendi dalle vostre mani.
From Guatamala to Honduras,
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
Kids play barefoot in the dirt track,
Kick a football in the air,
Their joy for life and smiling faces
Keep their mothers from despair;
But not for them no education,
No hoping for a better way,
They're growing to a life of poverty
Just like the night it follows day.
Dal Guatamala all' Honduras,
Dalle Filippine a El Salvador,
Le persone combattono per la loro libertà,
Per condurre gli Yankee fuori dalla loro porta.
Vivendo al bordo delle città,
In casupole diroccate a in baraccopoli,
Mentre i consiglieri militari Yankee
Occupano i terreni migliori;
Niente acqua corrente, misure sanitarie,
Niente cure mediche per i poveri,
Giovani costretti alla prostituzione,
Marinai Yankee su qeuste coste.
Dal Guatemala all'Honduras,
Dalle Filippine al Salvador,
Le persone combattono per la loro libertà,
Per condurre gli Yankee fuori dalla loro porta.
Dal Guatemala all'Honduras,
Dalle Filippine a El Salvador,
Le persone combattono per la loro libertà,
Per condurre gli Yankee fuori dalla loro porta.
Dal Guatemala all'Honduras,
Dalle Filippine al Salvador,
Le persone combattono per la loro libertà,
Per condurre gli Yankee fuori dalla loro porta.
Il pace è scarso, e così il riso,
E' passato tempo da quando avete mangiato carne,
Mentre gli Yankee dissanguano il vostro paese
E' difficile trovare abbastanza da mangiare.
La vita è crudele, il lavoro è difficile che arrivi
Sopravvivendo con difficoltà,
MacDonalds, Exxon, Coca Cola
Strappano gli stipendi dalle vostre mani.
From Guatamala to Honduras,
Philippines to El Salvador,
People fighting for their freedom,
To drive the Yankee from their door.
Kids play barefoot in the dirt track,
Kick a football in the air,
Their joy for life and smiling faces
Keep their mothers from despair;
But not for them no education,
No hoping for a better way,
They're growing to a life of poverty
Just like the night it follows day.
Dal Guatamala all' Honduras,
Dalle Filippine a El Salvador,
Le persone combattono per la loro libertà,
Per condurre gli Yankee fuori dalla loro porta.
Vivendo al bordo delle città,
In casupole diroccate a in baraccopoli,
Mentre i consiglieri militari Yankee
Occupano i terreni migliori;
Niente acqua corrente, misure sanitarie,
Niente cure mediche per i poveri,
Giovani costretti alla prostituzione,
Marinai Yankee su qeuste coste.
Dal Guatemala all'Honduras,
Dalle Filippine al Salvador,
Le persone combattono per la loro libertà,
Per condurre gli Yankee fuori dalla loro porta.
Dal Guatemala all'Honduras,
Dalle Filippine a El Salvador,
Le persone combattono per la loro libertà,
Per condurre gli Yankee fuori dalla loro porta.
inviata da Kiocciolina - 27/8/2007 - 20:26
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Musica di / Music by Geoff Francis
Dedicated to all victims of colonialism across the world who are fighting back.