It's snowing in the valley, ice chokes the river's mouth
But the air is still and silent in the mountains to the south
Here the fire in the cookstove drives the winter's chill away
While the silent, southern sentries pass the watchful hours till day
And from the mountains of Virginia to the hills of Salvador
The mother and the fathers send their children off to war
The hand that drove the plow is on the trigger in the night
Killing other sons and daughters, fighting someone else's fight
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
Echo the mountains of Virginia we cry out: "No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
Compañeros, compañeras, we cry out: "No más! No more!"
As the government of Poland once turned to Moscow for her schemes
So the junta looks to Washington to crush her people's dreams
With the white hand of the death squads and the rumble of the tanks
Keeps the coffee on our tables and the money in our banks
No swords shall turn to plowshares till the land is theirs to plow
Till the name is on the ballot that rots in the prison now
And the weapons of their victory shall be schools and food and jobs
And the song from every mountain top is "Paz y Libertad!"
[Tag:]
Pretoria, Santiago, Beirut, San Salvador
Our silence buys the battles, let us cry: "No más! No more!"
But the air is still and silent in the mountains to the south
Here the fire in the cookstove drives the winter's chill away
While the silent, southern sentries pass the watchful hours till day
And from the mountains of Virginia to the hills of Salvador
The mother and the fathers send their children off to war
The hand that drove the plow is on the trigger in the night
Killing other sons and daughters, fighting someone else's fight
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
Echo the mountains of Virginia we cry out: "No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
Compañeros, compañeras, we cry out: "No más! No more!"
As the government of Poland once turned to Moscow for her schemes
So the junta looks to Washington to crush her people's dreams
With the white hand of the death squads and the rumble of the tanks
Keeps the coffee on our tables and the money in our banks
No swords shall turn to plowshares till the land is theirs to plow
Till the name is on the ballot that rots in the prison now
And the weapons of their victory shall be schools and food and jobs
And the song from every mountain top is "Paz y Libertad!"
[Tag:]
Pretoria, Santiago, Beirut, San Salvador
Our silence buys the battles, let us cry: "No más! No more!"
inviata da giorgio - 5/2/2011 - 08:40
Lingua: Inglese
It's snowing in the valley, ice chokes the river's mouth
But the air is still and silent in the mountains to the south
Here the fire in the cookstove drives the winter's chill away
While the silent, southern sentries pass the watchful hours till day
And from the mountains of Virginia to the hills of Salvador
The mother and the fathers send their children off to war
The hand that drove the plow is on the trigger in the night
Killing other sons and daughters, fighting someone else's fight
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
Echo the mountains of Virginia we cry out: "No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
Compañeros, compañeras, we cry out: "No más! No more!"
As the government of Poland once turned to Moscow for her schemes
So the junta looks to Washington to crush her people's dreams
With the white hand of the death squads and the rumble of the tanks
Keeps the coffee on our tables and the money in our banks
No swords shall turn to plowshares till the land is theirs to plow
Till the name is on the ballot that rots in the prison now
And the weapons of their victory shall be schools and food and jobs
And the song from every mountain top is "Paz y Libertad!"
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
In Guatemla, Nicaragua we cry out "No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
Compañeros, compañeras, we cry out: "No más! No more!"
Rectoría Santiago, Peru, San Salvador
Our silence buys the battles let us cry: "No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!"
But the air is still and silent in the mountains to the south
Here the fire in the cookstove drives the winter's chill away
While the silent, southern sentries pass the watchful hours till day
And from the mountains of Virginia to the hills of Salvador
The mother and the fathers send their children off to war
The hand that drove the plow is on the trigger in the night
Killing other sons and daughters, fighting someone else's fight
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
Echo the mountains of Virginia we cry out: "No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
Compañeros, compañeras, we cry out: "No más! No more!"
As the government of Poland once turned to Moscow for her schemes
So the junta looks to Washington to crush her people's dreams
With the white hand of the death squads and the rumble of the tanks
Keeps the coffee on our tables and the money in our banks
No swords shall turn to plowshares till the land is theirs to plow
Till the name is on the ballot that rots in the prison now
And the weapons of their victory shall be schools and food and jobs
And the song from every mountain top is "Paz y Libertad!"
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
In Guatemla, Nicaragua we cry out "No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!" shout the hills of Salvador
Compañeros, compañeras, we cry out: "No más! No more!"
Rectoría Santiago, Peru, San Salvador
Our silence buys the battles let us cry: "No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!"
"No más! No more!"
inviata da Paulina - 7/5/2020 - 05:48
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Lyrics & Music by John McCutcheon
Album: Signs Of The Times [1986]