I asked myself what could be their drive
I asked myself if their gods have eyes
The wars between religions and their new Messiah
The national guard Salvador you're a liar
All the callous fighters, I hold them in contempt
Trusting ever faithful their cause will win the day
Their guns against their daggers with crude untempered blades
Home-built bombs against an army custom made
The diplomatic silence and the occupied hate
"Belfast the damned" is written in red
On the heavy files of the faithful dead
Ireland in mourning has become a coffin
Missionaries in white shirts
Slaughtering in a mass
Go back to your crusade !
This country stinks of death, your only wish to run
No exit from this jungle for the poor peon
The body of repression above the camp of refugees
El Salvador continues to bleed
People die more now in this tropical land
Where throats get cut out of suspicion and ideals
The peace of thousands dead and the anger shows
One prays for this country as silence grows
Missionaries in white shirts
Slaughtering in a mass
Get back to your crusade
San Salvador !
Missionaries in white shirts
Slaughtering in a mass
Get back to your crusade
San Salvador - Belfast !
One god for the rich one god for the poor
One god for the just
The rest is for us
Continue to fight to please the gods
Continue to cut throats to sacrifice
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