Allessandro has said he'll run to the store To bring back tobacco and beer In silence we wait for the sound of the door The hour of curfew is near Outside I can hear the rattle of guns The rumble of trucks in the street Our lullaby ends, the dark hour comes We whisper the small ones to sleep In the morning I seek out the neighbours around I ask them but nobody knows Did he stop for the night with friends in the town The doors of our friends are all closed The sergeant looks up at the sound of my name Quickly his eyes turn away There's no need to answer, it's always the same At the edge of the town, he will say Like a broken toy he lies in the dirt And greets me with unblinking eyes A blood-red rose has bloomed on his shirt He sleeps to the music of flies Lost in his silence thoughtless I wait For an angel of Christ to appear My heart is closed in the black hand of hate And hatred has stolen my tears A bullet can open such a small wound When our children are led to the wall The price of his life was the sun and the moon The price of his d**h so small And where are the bullets to buy back the dreams Of children who never grow old And why have you traded our rice and our beans For coffee more precious than gold I will return to the sergeant again In my manner no trace of surprise He will look up to the sound of my name To discover his d**h in my eyes My brothers and sisters all flee to the wilds To counsel, to nurture and learn And you who feast on the blood of a child Sleep well until we return