8 December 1980, the poet steps out from his car
Rye catcher in the shadows, won’t let him get too far.
A single word of greeting, adulation’s other side.
Five explosions in the twilight, in the dark the poet dies
Bloodied glasses on the pavement, weeping widow in the gate
The dream is over now, it’s just too late.
We kill prophets and poets, wrapping words in bloody shrouds
Kill singers in the streets, their words are not allowed.
Kill them when we fail to listen, fail to hear the song they sing,
Indifference is the weapon, killing all that they may bring
Killing all that they may bring...
Santiago’s field of pleasure, in September ‘73,
Held in a makeshift prison, a singer finds his voice set free
Hands broken for his effort, Manifesto sung out loud
His final words of freedom, last message to the crowd
Victor falls as shots ring out, one more body hits the ground
Dreamers die each day, but no one hears the sound.
Sell a gun to a twisted mind, Looking out for fame
Sell a country to the generals, No one is to blame
And the bullets fly as the poets fall. And the bullets fly as the poets fall.
We kill prophets and poets, wrapping words in bloody shrouds
Kill singers in the streets, their words are not allowed.
Kill them when we fail to listen, fail to hear the song they sing,
Indifference is the weapon,
Killing all that they may bring.
Killing all that they may bring…
Rye catcher in the shadows, won’t let him get too far.
A single word of greeting, adulation’s other side.
Five explosions in the twilight, in the dark the poet dies
Bloodied glasses on the pavement, weeping widow in the gate
The dream is over now, it’s just too late.
We kill prophets and poets, wrapping words in bloody shrouds
Kill singers in the streets, their words are not allowed.
Kill them when we fail to listen, fail to hear the song they sing,
Indifference is the weapon, killing all that they may bring
Killing all that they may bring...
Santiago’s field of pleasure, in September ‘73,
Held in a makeshift prison, a singer finds his voice set free
Hands broken for his effort, Manifesto sung out loud
His final words of freedom, last message to the crowd
Victor falls as shots ring out, one more body hits the ground
Dreamers die each day, but no one hears the sound.
Sell a gun to a twisted mind, Looking out for fame
Sell a country to the generals, No one is to blame
And the bullets fly as the poets fall. And the bullets fly as the poets fall.
We kill prophets and poets, wrapping words in bloody shrouds
Kill singers in the streets, their words are not allowed.
Kill them when we fail to listen, fail to hear the song they sing,
Indifference is the weapon,
Killing all that they may bring.
Killing all that they may bring…
inviata da Michael Bell - 15/12/2017 - 22:11
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Song honoring anti-war & human rights activists Victor Jara & John Lennon.