|
Breakfast woodsmoke on the breeze -- |
|
On the cliff the U.S. Embassy |
|
Frowns out over Managua like Dracula's tower. |
|
The kid who guards Fonseca's tomb |
|
Cradles a beat-up submachine gun -- |
|
At age fifteen he's a veteran of four years of war |
|
Proud to pay his dues |
|
He knows who turns the screws |
|
Baby face and old man's eyes |
|
Blue lagoon and flowering trees -- |
|
Bullet-packed masaya streets |
|
Full of the ghosts of the heroes of Monimbo |
|
Women of the town laundry |
|
Work and gossip and laugh at me -- |
|
They don't believe I'll ever send them the pictures I took. |
|
For every scar on a wall |
|
There's a hole in someone's heart |
|
Where a loved one's memory lives |
|
In the flash of this moment |
|
You're the best of what we are -- |
|
Don't let them stop you now |
|
Nicaragua |
|
Sandino in his tom mix hat |
|
Gazes from billboards and coins |
|
"Sandino vive en la lucha por la paz" |
|
Sandino of the shining dream |
|
Who stood up to the U.S. marines -- |
|
Now Washington panics at U2 shots of "Cuban-style" latrines |
|
In the flash of this moment |
|
You're the best of what we are -- |
|
Don't let them stop you now |
|
Nicaragua |