Los Compañeros - Allan Taylor, Grischka Zepf

You see them in old Havana,

Playing cards, smoking cigares …

And their polishing crome fenders

On their big old yankee cars.

Manuel sits in la casa de rosa,

Drinking rum, watching the girls …

He whistles at the beautiful Maria

And she smiles and tosses her girls.

Now the bartender strums his guitar

And the rhythm plays out in the street.

Maria moves with the passion

As her body sways in the heat.

And the old guys, smiling with pleasure,

For a moment they’re young and they’re strong.

And the young girls are giving them flowers

As they sing their victory song.

REFRAIN:

Once we were bold companeros,

Running guns from the Florida keys,

On the beach from Santiago to Cuba,

We were figting with Fidel and Che.

He talks of the great revolution

In words of sadness and pride.

And the medals he wears

Are the scars that he bears —

And he drinks for the friends who died.

We were farmers, we were poets and we were hungry.

All we wanted was our own peace of land.

We were fighting for our wives and children

And freedom for every man!

REFRAIN

Now the yankees come for the fishing

And their pockets are loaded with greens.

Ten dollars will buy you a woman

or a tank of gasoline.

And the young kids are leaving the island

And the old guys have nothing to say.

Manuel is living on dreams of the past

And tonight he’ll drink it away …

REFRAIN