Thankyou for reminding me of the beautiful lyrics to " They Dance Alone." It has been far too long since I have listened to that song. Thankyou again to Sting for making me go and find out who Pinochet was and what happened in Chile the year I was born. There are so many examples of things I know about now that I would have been clueless about if they hadn't been mentioned by that totally hot guy I was fascinated with. The more I learned the more I understood and respected him and his lyrics which were almost always an opportunity to talk about something deeper than your average pop song. Kim Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T -----Original Message----- From: "Leandro Germán Montibelli" <fleita@gmail.com> Date: Thu, 11 Oct 2007 14:57:29 To:"Jenny Dolan" <dolanbalin@yahoo.com> Cc:police@mailman.xmission.com Subject: Re: [Police] Favourite lyrics Once that you've decided on a killing First you make a stone of your heart And if you find that your hands are still willing Then you can turn a murder into art (...) But you can reach the top of your profession If you become the leader of the land For murder is the sport of the elected And you don't need to lift a finger of your hand ------------------- Don't have to be born into this society Pay for love but the hate comes free Bring enough money for the rest of your life Don't bring your wife to the low life ------------------- A year has passed since I wrote my note But I should have known this right from the start Only hope can keep me together Love can mend your life But love can break your heart (...) Walked out this morning Don't believe what I saw A hundred billion bottles Washed up on the shore Seems I'm not alone at being alone A hundred billion castaways ---------------------------------- Hey Mr. Pinochet You've sown a bitter crop It's foreign money that supports you One day the money's going to stop No wages for your torturers No budget for your guns Can you think of your own mother Dancin' with her invisible son They're dancing with the missing They're dancing with the dead They dance with the invisible ones Their anguish is unsaid They're dancing with their fathers They're dancing with their sons They're dancing with their husbands They dance alone They dance alone Looking for a home _______________________________________________ Police mailing list Police@mailman.xmission.com http://mailman.xmission.com/cgi-bin/mailman/listinfo/police