THE BROKEN HANDS OF VICTOR JARA

The boy reads Baudelaire

and gets a hard-on

The flowers of evil dissected

As she kisses his gun

 

I think the French guy said it all

She down there doesn’t really understand

She never heard Victor Jara sing or speak

Long after the decay at Santiago

Which was a hell for the meek

 

Miners know what lurks in the darkness

They know in darkness you depend on trust of friends

 

Things have changed
Dictators flee

Dictators die

People can speak openly about you again

But the things that led to your demise moved overseas

 

The sons and daughters of Alexander are balling their fists

The seeds for change have been planted by the perpetrators

Jara your death wasn’t for nothing

Your songs nestled in the hearts of many

Your spirit lives on

Victory for Victor

Under the truth of darling sun