La Noche de los Lápices
Iparfolk
The Night of the Pencils
Blood in the history of that gladiator
Who fought in the street
Expressing what he didn't understand
The echo resonates in his voice
Argentine people, La Plata stands tall
Running through seventy-six
Fighting for a ticket on that bus
That never saw the light
They trampled the garden
Of the student essence
Scraping the military dust
The deadly criminal knew
They trampled the garden
Of the student essence
Scraping the military dust
The deadly criminal knew
Seven innocents of blood and unity
Their shell broke free
Red the cells that housed them
Are stained with pain
A rebellious sun shines over there
On that memory that was me
And in defeat, I'll disguise myself
As that same kid once more
They trampled the garden
Of the student essence
Scraping the military dust
The deadly criminal knew
They trampled the garden
Of the student essence
Scraping the military dust
The deadly criminal knew
