Past Proud Bloody Nights of Argentine
A nation bleeding proudly in the cold hours of dawn
duly cruel leaders and men carrying out the dirty war
annihilating the resentful enemies of the land
executing the master plan under the black veils of the night.
Silent flights of death piercing the nocturnal skies
lonely screams of pain lulling the stars
in the centers of detention the victory was for the right
an eternal debt to the dictators and to their fucking great groups of tasks.
But the work of the armies dark remained unfulfilled
the defeated ones spread their venom writing the liar history
the unreflecting pitiful nation enriched the sons of the enemies
and now they rose again from the black pits of their damned mortality.
Renewing the call for war...