Qui sine peccato est vestrum, primus in aliam lapidem mittat
This Neruda - the Fascists murdered him This Neruda - let us ****** him again The people read and love his poems too much And they ignore ours – let us dig him up
This Neruda – we will dig him up And subject him to our Inquisition We now will tell you what each fragment means Each fragment of each word, his flesh, his bone
We have our bullhorns and our three-beat chants His poems will mean what we tell you they mean