The peons of Mexico long have known suffering and pain.
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Zapata and Villa have died there, fighting in vain.
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Rube'n Jaramillo kept up the tradition, he fought for the land once again.
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He lived for the land, and there on the land he was slain.
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A forty-five bullet has ended the life of a man who had lived by the gun,
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but all of the bullets of Mexico cannot undo all the work that he's done.
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The greedy capiques* have stolen and plundered the land,
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With pistoleros they ruled with a cold iron hand.
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The poor campesinos could stand it no longer, resistance was starting to grow.
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Jaramillo decided to fight for a new Mexico.
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A forty-five bullet has ended the life of a man who had lived by the gun,
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but all of the bullets of Mexico cannot undo all the work that he's done.
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For twenty long years he fought and he struggled and tried,
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(Effe Bonilla), his wife, always there at his side.
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Often surrounded, he always was hounded, they searched for him
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near, far, and wide:
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A man of deep sorrow, but also a man of deep pride.
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A forty-five bullet has ended the life of a man who had lived by the gun,
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but all of the bullets of Mexico cannot undo all the work that he's done.
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Two thousand peasants he led to their long-promised land,
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and the army's revenge killed the wife and the sons and the man.
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His assasins rejoiced with their whiskey and women, they laughed and
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they danced on his grave.
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Now the land waits again for another to ride on the waves.
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A forty-five bullet has ended the life of a man who had lived by the gun,
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but all of the bullets of Mexico cannot undo all the work that he's done.
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Bullets Of Mexico
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| Phil Ochs |
