José República

If you want to write to me
You already know my whereabouts
Third mixed brigade
First line of fire

If you want to write to me
You already know my whereabouts
Third mixed brigade
First line of fire

Come on, commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion
The locomotive whistles
And the shooting begins

Come on, commotion, commotion, commotion, commotion
The machine gun whistles

It was the 30s and José Republic lived
When the popular front achieved victory
It was the years of hope that were stolen from us
Of land without war

Hey, a puddle of blood
Hey, a man on the ground
It smells like murder (and there's mourning)
Someone has died

It was the 30s and José Republic lived
When Alfonso XIII fled from democracy
It was the years of freedom as a flag
Of the popular assembly

Hey, a puddle of blood
Hey, a man on the ground
It smells like murder (and there's mourning)
Someone has died

The times of the exiles arrived, the
War arrived
Of waves of hunger, of those executed
And the orphaned people, with dignity
Never stopped walking, Nor will they stop

Hey, a puddle of blood
Hey, a man on the ground
It smells like murder (and there's mourning)
José Republic has died