It seems like it was just a dream,
one which fades each night as I lie in my bed,
dreams of you, mountains green and red like the quetzal.

Queremos paz.
Queremos libertad.
Queremos comida y una lugar segura
donde recostar nuestras cabezas.

My memory seems to flee
to chase the models on the screen,
your words so soon forgotten,
drowned in the noise of radio and TV.

Queremos paz.
Queremos libertad.
Queremos comida y una lugar segura
donde recostar nuestras cabezas.

I can come and go as I please
and I am protected from your pain.
I hear the red running in the rain,
pictures fade to a blip on the screen.

Queremos paz.
Queremos libertad.
Queremos comida y una lugar segura
donde recostar nuestras cabezas.

In the jungle the quetzal hides,
leaves the sky to the silver birds, silver bullets,
silver bombs from silver coins inscribed with God and Trust.

Queremos paz.
Queremos libertad.
Queremos comida y una lugar segura
donde recostar nuestras cabezas.

Wait for the moon,
full moon to find the men who hide
in the shadows silver in their hand when the quetzal will fly again.

Queremos paz.
Queremos libertad.
Queremos comida y una lugar segura
donde recostar nuestras cabezas.

All is gray like a bleeding newspaper,
bleeds for the truth, bleeds for me, bleeds for you,
and what we all will lose.

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