(performed by Joan Baez & Jackson Browne from her album Speaking of Dreams)



Now that the city is dreaming, viva the pale moonlight

Take to your bibles, take to your beds, now that nothing seems right

National Guards who they pay by the week are gonna clash in the curfew tonight

With Los companeros born in the war, from Warsaw to San Salvador



A voice from the past comes a callin', saying hold every strong heart dear

These are the days when it seems like there's nothing but newspapers, order, fear

Praise to the ones who are burried gone, and to the brave hearts who just disappeared

Los companeros, born in the war, from Belfast to San Salvador



Whad'a you got to do to get through

They're deaf as a graveyard

What does Nicaragua say to you?



Think of the midnight, silver & black, think if the sun can be fooled

Think of the four sisters shot in the back for running a land reform school

Think of the ones taken hard in the hills, they can be beaten but they can never be ruled

Los Companeros, born in the war, viva El Salvador