Santo Domingo

Of Santo Domingo
Of Santo Domingo

As the warships sway and thunder in the bay
The marines have landed on the shores
But the boy on the shore is throwing pebbles no more
The sea is churning
Of Santo Domingo
Their courses turning
But the traitors will pretend that it's getting near the end
When it's beginning

Loud the morning
Ready for the tricks, their bayonets are fixed
The sniper is callin'
All the young wives afraid, turn their backs on the parade
The sea is churning
Now they are rolling
Where fear is unfolding
The marines have landed on the shores
The streets are still, there's silence in the hills
That the the marines have landed on the shores

And the fish take flight and scatter from the sight

The unsmiling sun is shining down upon
So they open their guns, a thousand to one
No sense in stalling

The marines have landed on the shores
And the crabs are crazy, they scuttle back and forth

And the tanks make tracks past the trembling shacks
As the first troops land and step into the sand
And the fish take flight and scatter from the sight
As the seagulls rest on the cold cannon nest
With babes they're holding
And the eyes of the dead are turning every head
The fishermen sweat, they're pausing at their nets

The wheel is spinning
The marines have landed on the shores

The fields they're keeping
Of Santo Domingo
The town is sleeping
Of Santo Domingo
They're getting bolder

The flags are weaving
The sand is burning
Up and down the coed, the generals drink a toast

Their teeth are gleaming
The old women sigh, think of memories gone by
Of Santo Domingo
The singing soldiers
He runs a-warning
The heat is leaning
They shrug their shoulders
The day's a-burning
He clutches at his head and totters on the edge
Through the doors to see who's winning
The marines have landed on the shores
The marines have landed on the shores
The marines have landed on the shores
Look how he's falling
A bullet cracks the sound, the army hit the ground
The marines have landed on the shores
As the seagulls rest on the cold cannon nest
But the soldiers make a bid, giving candy to the kids
Their courses turning
And the cowards and the whores are peeking
And the farmers yawn in the gray silver dawn

To the widows screaming

Of Santo Domingo
Of Santo Domingo
In the cloud dust whirl they whistle at the girls
In the red plaza square, the crowds come to stare