A generation died When the shots began And the planes moved in We chose the tyrant’s side It’s always been the plan Kill the people’s man
Misery’s our currency We buy and sell so gracefully The open veins and how they bleed In September 1973
The city’s burning, and it’s us who lit the fire It would be his last goodbye Just one last broadcast so the struggle stays alive It would be his last goodbye
An innocence had died As the palace burned Make the peasants learn Like a fragile kite People disappeared Drifting into fear
Hope was bleeding in the streets As soldiers killed so willingly They planted seeds of tragedy In September 1973
The city’s burning, and it’s us who lit the fire It would be his last goodbye Just one last broadcast so the struggle stays alive It would be his last goodbye
The streets are quickly growing calm Like dying winds before the storm The worst is clearly yet to come I dare to say that this means war And things will not be like before What the hell do we stand for?
The city’s burning, and it’s us who lit the fire It would be his last goodbye Just one last broadcast so the struggle stays alive It would be his last goodbyeTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
