Allende - Written by Don Lange

The night hawk flies and the owl cries as we're driving down the road
Listening to the music, on the all night radio show.
The announcer comes on says, "If you've got ideas I'll file the patent for you.
What's an idea that's not in the store, makin' a buck or two?"

We drive to the town but the shutters are down and the night restuarant's closed.
It's the land of the free, they've booze and TV and there's tramps in the telephone booths.
The stars and the trees and the early spring breeze say forget what assassins have done,
Take the good soil in the palm of your hand and wait for tomorrow's sun.

It's a long way from the heartland to Santiago Bay
Where the good doctor lies with blood in his eyes and the bullets read USA.

A truck drivers wife leads a strange life driving down the road
Carrying the goods, all the copper and wood. That's what makes America great.
The dollars like swallows fly to the south, where they know they've something to gain -
Allende is killed - the trucks are rolling again.

The night hawk flies, the owl cries as we're driving down the road.
The full moon reveals the houses and fields where good people do what they're told.
A poet lies with coins in his eyes, there's no one around him to mourn.
Who needs a poet who won't take commands, who'd rather make love than war?