Crossposted from Fire on The Mountain.
Golpe (Honduras) — Lyrics & Music by Simon Rios
Oye, Nica, Salvadoreño,
Indio, Garifuna, Brazileiro,
Gringo, Gaucho, y Caraqueño,
Chilango, Cholo, Potorro y Porteño
Esto es una llamada, en nombre de los Hondureños
Hay ke levantarnos todos, por este justo desempeño
Hay que defender ese pueblo, con puño y con cerebro
Hay que defender ese pueblo, con puño y con cerebro
June 28th, 2,009 was the day
When they uprooted los catrachos, from the progresista way.
Mel Zelaya was the president, who’d gone from right to left,
He was a magnate of the old school, but was calling out the theft
& pillage of Honduras, & the whole of the continente
by los gringos asesinos, & their local asistentes.
So they kidnapped Mel at gunpoint, at five o clock in the morn
And America woke that Sunday, said what the hell is going on?
Que carajo esta pasando? Otro golpe militar!
Otro once de septiembre, otro tiempo pa gritar!
This isn’t about Manuel Zelaya, it ain’t about the constitution,
It’s about the oligarchía, and it’s about the revolution.
The Honduran Magna Carta, was designed by the ruling class
With the oversight of Washington, & the rulers of the past
And Zelaya wanted reform, to promote participation
Cuz democracy ain’t about, pulling a lever & waiting patient
It ain’t about a rich criollo, sucking blood out of the nation
Its about power to the people, & the old order is changing
Pues America esta cambiando, por un modelo socialista,
anti-fascista, contra estes malditos golpistas
Tres-cientos mil up en la calle, dicen Zelaya no se va!
Los golpistas dicen democracia, mientras hacen coup d’etat
It’s like saying save the trees, while revving a chainsaw
It’s like saying it ain’t me babe, when you’re the one I saw.
And the golpistas waved a banner, reading we shall overcome
Which side would Martin be on, if Martin could’ve come?
Oxala pudiera cantarte, una rolita mas alegre
But the golpe en Honduras, makes me mutherfucking angry
I wish this was a nightmare, or a skit on cha cha cha
But its real as rigor mortis, cuz they made a coup d’etat
Hay que tener rabia pueblo, Honduras es America
La misma sangre y consigna, desde Ushuaia hasta Merida
Y de ahi para Recife, y de ahi pa Torreón
Desde el bosque de Chapultepec, hasta las minas de Cerrejón.
No importa que pinche dia, no importa en que lugar,
Pues la esperanza comun, es lo quieren asesinar.
And they speak of an invasion by Venezolano agents
Y no aguantamos eso, they say, cuz we’re a sovereign nation.
Sovereign nation? With a gringo base in Chaperola?
You mean sovereign to the people? Or sovereign to Coca Cola?
And you’d be foolish if you thought that the gringos didn’t play a role
You think that the ambassador, Hugo Llorens, didn’t know?
This ain’t the US of Obama, but of Reich & of la CIA
The ones who planned the golpe contra Hugo Chavez Frias
The ones who killed Allende, & who tried to kill Fidel
The ones who speak of freedom, while manifesting hell
The ones who infiltrated the mighty Tupamaros
The ones who drew & quartered, the brave Tupac Amaru
The ones who own la prensa, y las haciendas y maquilas
The ones who stand to profit, from the riches of the minas
And the reporters of the mainstream, are more full of shit & piss
Than the sewage tank at midnight, on the Chinatown Express
Sowing fear of comunismo, and a thousand huevonadas
Cuz la prensa esta vendida, y su gente, comprada
Comiendo baleadas, mientras los pobres comen basura,
And they still can’t understand, why there’s tanta amargura
And you think they give a damn about the starvation of a people?
The disenfranchising of a people? the genocide of a people?
Cuz they’re killing little kids, & they’re killing periodistas,
They’re killing esperanzas, & they’re killing sindicalistas.
Here’s a fist up for Murillo, martyr of Tegucigalpa
Whose death served to make la resistencia stand mas alta
Here a fist up to COFADEH, OFRANEH, y el COPINH
From the pueblo of Geronimo & Martin Luther King.
This is the wakening of Honduras, in the form of a class war
It’s a fight of good & evil, & the good ones are the poor
Nothing more, and it sure ain’t nothing less
And it wont stop till the coup drops, and justicia is addressed.
Caerá la dictadura, como todos los demas
Y llegará un tiempo de justicia, justicia con paz
Pero mientras tanto y los llantos, los molestaré con mi canto
En frente de las marchas, con mas bravura que mil Rambos
Ambos ladosde la izkierda y por debajo
Venceremos Hondureño dale duro pueblo catracho.