Well, I remember the chorus at least. It has to do with, I believe, the average poor person in a war-torn nation trying to get by:

Who speaks for me, I who have no voice?
Who decides for me? It seems I have no choice.
Will I live, will I die? Will my family survive?
Will the ones who leap down from the trucks with their guns allow us our lives?
One thing I would ask, if I dared, of the ones we never see:
Guns and dollars are voices for you. Who speaks for me?