Menanti Seruan Sting
"...Hey Mr. Pinochet
You,ve sown a bitter crop
It,s foreign money that supports you
One day the money,s going to stop
No wages for your torturers
No budget for your guns
Can you think of your own mother
Dancin, with her invisible son
They,re dancing with the missing
They,re dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
They,re anguish is unsaid
They,re dancing with their fathers
They,re dancing with their sons
They,re dancing with their
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