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