The nighthawk flies and the owl cries as we’re driving
down the road.
Listening to the music on the all night radio show,
The announcer comes on says if you’ve got ideas I’ll file
the patent for you,
What’s an idea if it’s not in the store makin’ a buck or two.
We drive to the town but the shutters are down
and the all-night restaurant’s closed
It’s the land of the free, we’ve got booze and T.V.
and there’s tramps in the telephone booths.
The stars and the trees and the early Spring breeze
say forget what assassins have done,
Take our good soil in the palm of your hands and wait
for tomorrows sun.
CHORUS:
Its a long way from the heartlands
to Santiago bay
Where the good doctor lies with blood in his eyes
and the bullets read U.S.of
А truck driver’s wife she leads a rough life he spends his life
on the road.
Carrying the goods all the copper and wood thats
what makes America great,
But the dollars like swallows they fly to the South
where they know they’ve got something to gain,
Allende is killed, and the trucks are soon rolling again.
The nighthawk flies and the owl it cries as we’re driving
down the road,
The full moon reveals all the houses and fields
where good people do what they’re told,
Victor Jara he lies with coins in his eyes there’s
no one around him to mourn,
Who needs a poet who won’t take commands who’d rather
make love than make war.
CHORUS