Salvador (15 anni dopo) - Nomadi

Salvador era un uomo, vissuto da uomo

Morto da uomo, con un fucile in mano

Nelle caserme i generali, brindavano alla vittoria

Con bicchieri colmi di sangue, di un popolo in catene

Da un cielo grigio di piombo

Piovevano lacrime di rame

Il Cile piangeva disperato

La sua libertà perduta

Mille madri desolate, piangevano figli scomparsi

L’amore aveva occhi sbarrati di una ragazza bruna

Anche le colombe erano diventate falchi

Gli alberi d’ulivo trasformati in croci

Da un cielo grigio di piombo

Piovevano lacrime di rame

Il Cile piangeva disperato

La sua libertà perduta

Ma un popolo non può morire, non si uccidono idee

Sopra una tomba senza nome, nasceva la coscienza

Mentre l’alba dalle Ande rischiara i cieli

Cerca il suo nuovo nido una colomba bianca

Da un cielo grigio di piombo

Piovevano lacrime di rame

Il Cile piangeva disperato

La sua libertà perduta

Salvador was a man, lived as a man

Dead as a man, with a gun in his hand

In the barracks the generals toasted to victory

With glasses full of blood, of a people in chains

From a leaden gray sky

Copper tears were raining

Chile was crying in despair

His freedom lost

A thousand desolate mothers, cried missing children

Love had the wide eyes of a brunette girl

The doves had also become hawks

The olive trees transformed into crosses

From a leaden gray sky

Copper tears were raining

Chile was crying in despair

His freedom lost

But a people cannot die, ideas are not killed

Upon a nameless grave, consciousness was born

While the dawn from the Andes lights up the skies

A white dove looks for its new nest

From a leaden gray sky

Copper tears were raining

Chile was crying in despair

His freedom lost