| We are 5,000 — here in this little part of the city
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| We are 5,000 — how many more will there be?
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| In the whole city, and in the country 10,000 hands
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| Which could seed the fields, make run the factories
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| How much humanity — now with hunger, pain, panic and terror?
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| There are six of us — lost in space among the stars
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| One dead, one beaten like I never believed a human could be so beaten
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| The other four wanting to leave all the terror
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| One leaping into space, other beating their heads against the wall
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| All with gazes fixed on death
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| The military carry out their plans with precision;
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| Blood is medals for them, Slaughter is the badge of heroism
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| Oh my God — is this the world you created?
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| Was it for this, the seven days, of amazement and toil?
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| The blood of companero Presidente is stronger than bombs
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| Is stronger than machine guns
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| O you song, you come out so badly when I must sing — the terror!
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| What I see I never saw. |
| What I have felt, and what I feel must come out!
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| «Hara brotar el momento! |
| Hara brotar el momento!» |