Verse 1 (Cime):

Alguna vez en algun ano pasado
Yo aprendi a caminar
Y yo me fui por donde me daba la gana

(One time in a year long past
I learned how to walk
And I went wherever I felt like going)

some time ago a long time ago
i learned how to be free
and free I was for a minute i forgot it
how drab and dull everything was

Verse 2 (El Cafe Atomico):

Alguna vez en algun ano pasado
Yo naci en el centro del caos
Hijo del ruido y la furia
Esperando un futuro mejor
Muy, muy lejos de aca, compay
Pero entre el ruido y la furia
Un camino se encuentra
Un puente de fuego
Que te abraza
Y te quema
Y te mata
Y te ama
Y te libera
Y te muestra un futuro mejor
Aca, aca, aca!

(Sometime ago in some year ago
I was born in the center of the chaos
A son of noise and of fury
Waiting for a better future
Far, far away from here, Compay
You’ll find a road
A bridge of fire
That embraces you
And burns you
And kills you
And loves you
And liberates you
And shows you a better future
Here, here, here!)

Bridge (Cime):
Si queres estar libre
Tienes que pasar
Pensando en tu futuro
Nos espera ---Bolivar---
Ya no se canso todo
Y lo puedes cambiar
Si andamos caminando compay
Se puede lograr

(If you want to be free
You have to spend time
Thinking about your future
Bolivar waits for us
Nothing is ever truly over
And you can change it
If we start walking, Compay
We can accomplish it)

After all that was said and was done, triunfo la ---patria–-- -the homeland had won.
Parties united, the regions incited–wrested it from the hands of Spain.
But as they looked to one another in their liberated lands of love, passion turns to politics.
Their gaze turned inwards, and the dissolution had already begun.

Friends/Enemies (Earnest/Irony) (Disolucion)

It's hard when your friends
Instead become your enemies
They won't accept your identity
They'd rather see the end of me

It's hard when you want to say so much
But you're restrained by your vicinity
With your own doubts creating chains
Much heavier than anyone else could impose

Being earnest is hard when you're filled with anxiety
Irony makes it easy to be the person you want to be
Being genuine is hard when something so personal is being rated like
(You can compare them)
His worries and struggles are better than yours
Sorry, that's just what the people like
(The people like, the people like)

After multiple attempts to reconcile, their differences were far too great to overcome and ----the Union---- would fall.
Let it be known, however, that it did not fail naturally, like an old ----Ceiba---- tree putting itself to rest after a long and fruitful life.
This ----Guanacaste---- was torn from its roots by greed while Morazan tied himself to the trunk and was killed for it.
He was right.
He was right.

Cancion Para Guillermo (Song for Guillermo)

A century and a half later, someone who understood his vision would be born --in the spot where the peaceful Ceiba once stood.--
And his name was…

I wish I knew you
I can see right through you
Such a love for music
In a country that won’t conduce it

Passion for the art
Even though you’d never chart

You’re the hero and the only hero
In a country across the sea, oh
Not much gives me pride in my name
But I know you probably felt the same
Guillermo, I miss you

So, here's a fun fact for you... Francisco Morazan ----died the day that independence was declared for Central America...--- isn't that just crazy?
Like, what a weird coincidence... you know?
Um, it's almost too perfect to be–to be a coincidence, you know?
It's crazy how things work like that

You’ve been a teacher to me
I will come to see you
We can talk for hours, Guillermo
Honduras still cries for you

Guillermo, yo te quiero!
Guillermo, yo te quiero!
O, Guillermo, cuando te veo otra vez?
Te extrano tanto, Guillermo
Honduras, lloramos por ti
Ya estamos en revolucion

El Pueblo solo aguanta tanto!
Nos esta viendo nuestros ancestros, esperando que escojamos el paso correcto.
Venceremos, tiene que ser! Venceremos!

(Guillermo, I love you!
Guillermo, I love you!
Oh, Guillermo, when will I see you again?
I miss you so much, Guillermo
Honduras--we cry for you
We are already in a revolution

The Pueblo can only suffer for so long!
Our ancestors are watching us, waiting for us to take the right path forward.
We will overcome, it must happen! We will overcome!)

Conviccion! (Campana Nacional)

Going off to ---war for Costa Rica---, got my gun
Bayonet mount on my ---Enfield---, for the Yankees, better run

It's loaded and ready
Hold that gun steady
Ol’ ---Walker--- better sit still

For a bit we're united, in name, we'll be fighting
Against the ---Filibusters---
We're always fighting, always fighting, siempre en rebelion

(Always in rebellion)

They want to enslave us,
Colonize, and degrade us!
---Patria libre o morir!---

(Free homeland or death!)

I nearly died the other day, I nearly died
And I couldn't stop thinking about
Would they laugh at me?
Would they know that I nearly died and laugh at me?
But despite all of that, I have to keep on going

Things are never over until they're over
They can tell you that but it's just for control, oh
You have stay optimistic, fight for God, Fonseca did it
And don't you dare, don't you dare, don’t you dare, don’t you dare quit
Don’t you dare quit
(Don’t you dare)
Don't give up on me, or on you, or on us, or on everyone
(On us, on everyone)
We're all waiting for you
(For you!)

You might feel lost, and you might feel scared.
It’s understandable, there’s a war out there.
But just think of them–your ancestors.
They’re watching you, they’re watching us, they always have been.
In the midst of everything, remember one thing: fight 'till you're done.

Mother (Interlude)

I love my mother
I love my mother
Because she gave
Me the best
Shot at success
She could do
Without control
Beneath her waist

By the Bunches (Banana Dictatorships)

New Orleans gets some ice
Standard Fruit sees the price
Markets rising like
The tides the ships sail

A ---Faustian bargain--- made
With our people's souls we paid
Soon enough the devil came
Genocide, talking heads
---200,000 Mayans dead---
But how could we have known?

It's just like ---Ochoa said---
We open our doors
and let them in
Give them food
and call them friends
Although, I can't fault them

The ---republic--- had broken up
Half a century ago
They needed infrastructure
How could they know?
But I forgive them

What am I even doing here?

Too much money to get the help I need
Yet I'm too poor to afford the help I need, so
What am I doing here?
(What are you doing here?)
Exploit my mind i never liked it much
Export pain like bananas in a bunch
What am I even doing here?

What am I doing here?
(What are you doing here?)
God gave me a special purpose,
I just follow everything he says

Fruits don't make much anymore
Remittances are the new import
Exporting people to lower the ---dole queue---
Chiquita doesn't bring the money it used to
I tried staying earnest, I had my conviction
But then I quit my job, survived a car wreck
(Beep beep!)
I fought for independence and against a dictatorship
But the victory was temporary
Thought that was it, but on the contrary
They still won, they still won, just in a different way

I keep writing these songs because i know
I could never work an office job
Think I'm running out of time
I don't even know if there's an audience
Like, does anyone even care to hear me whine?
(I don't! I know that's for certain)

God, The FSLN, and the Despots (The Age-Old Story)

God loves you
God loves you
God loves you
And he loves me too

God loves you
God loves you
God loves you
And he loves me too

God loves you
God loves you
God loves you
And he loves me too

God loves you
God loves you
God loves you
And he loves me too

---When the earthquake came---
Nobody gave a shit
They sent some aid
Went to the dictatorship
And guess how well that whole ordeal went
(Not well, I'll tell you that much...)

This isn't new
It's always happening
But it hit a nerve
And we never went back again
And you and me, we both we know what's up!

It never ends, it's an age old story
In the 20s, in the 80s, even now, it gets boring

It never ends, it's an age old story
In the 20s in the 80s even now, it gets boring

you may be feeling lost, don't know what to do
you just got two people to answer to
God, or anything you moralize, and you

you see the problem was
the ---Filibusters--- chose him
he can't be earnest
he doesn't come from the heart
and the filibusters
don't even let me start

you may have doubts
it may be painful
but anything is better
then being chained by the ankles

it never ends, it's an age old story
in the 20s in the 80s even now, it gets boring

you may not know it but now you will
being yourself is following His will

it never ends, it's an age old story
in the 20s in the 80s even now, it gets boring

if you're gay, trans, bi, or lesbian
if you're an artist and not sure you'll fit in

it never ends, it's an age old story
in the 20s in the 80s even now, it gets boring

and if that upsets you, well that's ok
just take a look to the other way
the filibusters promote democracy
by ---arming troops that kill indiscriminately---
the filibusters always invoke God
while they play one like a fraud
it's blasphemy it's hegemony
so be the person you ought to be

God loves you
God loves you
God loves you
And he loves me too

God loves you
God loves you
God loves you
And he loves me too

God loves you
God loves you
God loves you
And he loves me too

God loves you
God loves you
God loves you
And he loves me too

God loves you
God loves you
God loves you
And he loves me too

Always in rebellion, we kept on fighting... sometimes we won, sometimes we didn’t.
Sometimes we won and still lost, but we always lost what we won.
Unfinished–our land is unwritten, words composed but never arranged. A region liberated, but its people estranged.
Started with wars for our Gods, now our Gods are drugs.
We sacrifice each other for their blessing.

It’s never too late to change. You can always rewrite your name, you just can’t rewrite the pain.

200 Years… (And What Came of Them)

phil ochs and nick drake
the burning torch of baroque folk i'll have to take
will i end up like a ---Dylan--- or a ---Jara---
will i ever buy a home for my mama
will i ever do anything at all

or will the peanut gallery chastise me
for expressing artistic insecurity
or for saying something they can't relate to
"it's not depression porn, what am i supposed to do?"
never been asked to comprehend another view
so you just pick a few words out, one or two
surely this isn't about me, it's all about you
always about you, forever about you

200 years, what came of them?
we broke our chains, now we're re-chateled
we freed ourselves, then we sold ourselves
just to feed ourselves, now it's gone to hell
the bind is strong, yes, it's stronger than the bond
of the union, which to our own past belongs
Morazan still lives within us
he is not dead, hope is not dead
God is not dead, we are not dead

but above all else, i ask with full intent
how am i supposed to celebrate with laughter and merriment
when the independence of central america is still just an experiment?
(We are not dead, we are not dead)

two hundred years
that's ten-odd score
five countries turn to seven or more
one is ---british--- the other ---american---
the other five are the aztlan of corn, amen
---cause i'm not mud and i'm no monkey
I'm a girl, an artist, child of the maize---
---and that bird is going to sing one of these days---
one day one day one day

a back up plan seems stupid to me
even though i nearly didn't get my high school degree
now I'm still struggling first year in college
---but this time with the knowledge of beans and toast
the knowledge of strawberries feeling morose---
the knowledge of God's love for his daughter the most

and of the filibuster the snake and the jaguar
the car the job the dictatorship
being earnest and not ironic
with my conviction i'll stick

moving forward
or sinking or freezing
or being shot or raped
die in the revolution of my mind
by my own soft hands

cry to try and evolve
from my swollen glands

or just sit inside
just sit inside
just sit inside
just sit inside
just sit inside

maybe someday we'll look back
new tomorrows will be the yesteryears of old
choosing the right path and walking down it
totally completed, the project went gold

or maybe you'll look back
and turn to a ---pillar of salt---
punished for your hesitation
in retrospect, who will you blame?
who will you name?
who will be at fault when to rest you are lain?
who will continue your legacy or does it end there?
are you fulfilled?
are you insecure?
if you passed away tomorrow would you leave any regrets
would you leave any unpaid debts
would you leave behind any trace of who you were for all who come next?
this may seem pretentious but i promise it isn't
look at the title of the album what does it mean
if you've been listening the question is obvious it seems
so lastly, i ask with full earnest intent
how am i supposed to celebrate with laughter and merriment
when the independence of central america is still just an experi