HAPPY BIRTHDAY REVOLUTION
Car horns and rumba music
Through the city's broken heart
Is this the devil's own back yard
It was forty years ago
That the gangster he fell
To a rag bag of men
The world remembers well
Happy birthday revolution
I'm standing here
Watching the world fall apart
Our leader he was young
Gallant and divine
It was the age of blood and romance
They shot him in Bolivia
No tear did we cry
For how many men
Can choose the way that they die
We paint him on buildings
With sadness in his eyes
If we suffer hungry days
We call it sacrifice
Some say his dream is full of holes
We have dignity and pride
We have independence
But was it just a yankee lie
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