(performed by Joan Baez & Jackson Browne from her album Speaking of Dreams)
Now that
the city is dreaming, viva the pale moonlight
Take to your bibles, take to your beds, now that
nothing seems right
National Guards who they pay by the week are gonna clash in the curfew
tonight
With Los companeros born in the war, from Warsaw to San Salvador
A voice
from the past comes a callin', saying hold every strong heart dear
These are the days when it
seems like there's nothing but newspapers, order, fear
Praise to the ones who are burried gone,
and to the brave hearts who just disappeared
Los companeros, born in the war, from Belfast to
San Salvador
Whad'a you got to do to get through
They're deaf as a graveyard
What does Nicaragua say to you?
Think of the midnight, silver & black, think if the
sun can be fooled
Think of the four sisters shot in the back for running a land reform
school
Think of the ones taken hard in the hills, they can be beaten but they can never be
ruled
Los Companeros, born in the war, viva El Salvador
