Luna

Moon, you see
I have no feet
'cause a judge cut them off.
Moon of my brothers
I have no hands
'cause the worms ate them away.
Moon, I have no guts
nor a belly
'cause they shut it down for good.
Moon, I have no tongue
nor a mouth
'cause they stuffed it with rags.

And they call me a thousand names to hold me back
'cause I don't think like everyone else
who watches TV, and I wouldn't even joke about
watching soap operas, hawk or dove.

And they call me cholo, stoner, washed-up
hippie, punk, long-haired, shaved
an earring showcase
frustrated poet
second and third-rate painter
skater, Sandinista, rocker, laid-back
marketeer, Guevara, tattooed red
crazy, lunatic, spaced out and insane
and all for thinking differently.

But I have my boxers
but I have passion
I have faith, guts
and a song or two
I want a change
and a revolution.

And even if I have no feet
nor hands, nor mouth
I have a guitar
that plays and plays
the same song.

That says long live, long live the revolution
that says long live, long live the revolution
that says long live, long live the revolution.

And even if I have no feet
nor hands, nor mouth
I have a guitar
that plays and plays
the same song.

That says long live, long live the revolution
that says long live, long live the revolution
that says long live, long live the revolution.