Desapariciones/ Disappearances by Ruben Blades

Somebody tell me if you’ve seen my husband--,
the woman asked.
His name is Ernesto X; here is 40 years old,
He works as a watchman
In a used car dealership
He wore a dark shirt and light pants.
He left the night before yesterday and is not back yet;
I don’t know what to think.
This has never happened to me before.

I have been looking for my sister for the past three days,
Her name is Altagracia, after our grandmother.
She left work to go to school.
She had jeans on and a white t-shirt.
It wasn’t the boyfriend; he’s home.
They don’t know of her whereabouts at the
Secret Police Headquarters,
nor at the Hospital.

Someone tell me if they have seen my son
He’s a Pre-Med student.
His name is August. He’s a nice boy.
Sometimes hardheaded in his opinions.
He has been detained. I don’t know by which force.
White pants, striped shirt. It happened two days ago

My mother’s name is Clara Quiñones.
She’s God soul, she doesn’t bother anyone.
Yes, she has been taken away as a witness
On a matter that only concerns me;
So I gave myself up this afternoon
And now nobody knows where she is.

Last night I heard several explosions.
Shots from rifles and revolvers.
Speeding cars, brakes screeching, screams.
The echo of boots in the street.
The noise of banging in the doors. Complaints.
“Oh my God”s Broken dishes.
They were showing the soap opera on the TV.
No one looked outside.

Where do people who disappear go?
Look in the water and in the high grass /
Why do they disappear? Because we’re all not the same.
When do they return? Every time our
thoughts bring them back /
How we can talk to the disappeared ones?
With our emotions, from our insides.

Going Home by The Bodeans

They said good-bye to all their friends
And left their humble homes behind
They'd heard about a chance up north
Amidst the noise and dirt and fire
And on the way they prayed to God
"Have mercy send us down a light"
And when the babies cried they told them close
"Mi hijo (my son) everything is alright"

Going home
On the wings of angels
Going home
On the wings of a snow white dove
Going home
On the wings of angels
Going home
On the wings of love

One walked his way around the town
The other took the name of Rose
They both never had much wealth
But each one knew how a flower grows
And they spoke a language in new ways
And raised their families true to heart
Their blood runs through my veins so deep
I know they could never tear us apart

Yeah, they broke their backs just trying to stake a place
That they could call their own
And as we lay them down to sleep
I know in my heart that they're going home

"Indian Reservation (The Lament of the Cherokee Reservation Indian)"
by Paul Revere and the Raiders

"Indian Reservation" wound up being not only the Raiders' biggest hit, but the best-selling single Columbia Records had issued. Indians in Salt Lake City even used it as a publicity song in their struggle for civil rights.
They took the whole Cherokee nation
Put us on this reservation
Took away our ways of life
The tomahawk and the bow and knife
Took away our native tongue
And taught their English to our young
And all the beads we made by hand
Are nowadays made in Japan

Cherokee people, Cherokee tribe
So proud to live, so proud to die

They took the whole Indian nation
Locked us on this reservation
Though I wear a shirt and tie
I'm still part redman deep inside

Cherokee people, Cherokee tribe
So proud to live, so proud to die

But maybe someday when they learn
Cherokee nation will return, will return, will return, will return, will return

Kenji by Fort Minor

"My father came from Japan in 1905.
He was fifteen when he immigrated from Japan.
He worked until he was able to buy - to actually build a store."

Let me tell you the story in the form of a dream
I don't know why I have to tell it but I know what it means
Close your eyes and just picture the scene / as I paint it for you
It was World War II when this man named Kenji woke up
Ken was not a soldier / he was just a man with a family Who owned a store
In LA / that day
He crawled out of bed like he always did
Bacon and eggs with wife and kids / he lived on the Second floor of a little store he ran
He moved to LA from Japan
They called him immigrant / in Japanese
He'd say he was called iisei / that meant
First Generation in the United States when
Everybody was afraid of the Germans / afraid of the "Japs"
But most of all afraid of a homeland attack
And that morning when Ken went out on the doormat
His world went black 'cause
Right there / front page news
Three weeks before 1942
Pearl Harbor's been bombed and "The Japs Are Coming'"
Pictures of soldiers dying and running
Ken knew what it would lead to
And just like he guessed / the President said
The "evil Japanese" in our home country will be locked away
They gave Ken, a couple of days,
To get his whole life packed in two bags
Just two bags
He couldn't even pack his clothes
And some folks didn't even have a suitcase
To pack anything in
So two trash bags was all they gave them
And when the kids asked mom / where are we going
Nobody even knew what to say to them
Ken didn't want to lie
He said the US is looking for spies
So we have to live in a place called Manzanar
Where a lot of Japanese people are
Stop it / don't look at the gunmen
You don't wanna get the soldiers wondering
If you're gonna run or not 'cause if you run then you might get shot
Other than that / try not to think about it
Try not to worry 'bout it being' so crowded,
Cause someday we'll get out / someday / someday

"Yeah, soon as war broke out, the F.B.I came and... they just come to the house and, you have to come. All the Japanese have to go. They took Mr. Ni, the people couldn't understand, why did they have to take him because he's an innocent laborer..."

So now they're in a town with soldiers surrounding them
Every day every night / looked down at them,
From watchtowers up on the wall
Ken couldn't really hate them at all
They were just doing their job and
He wasn't gonna make any problems
He had a little garden / vegetables and fruits that he gave to the troops
In a basket his wife made
But in the back of his mind he wanted his family's life saved
Prisoners of war in their own damn country
What for?

And time passed in the prison town / he wondered
If he'd live it down if and when they were free
The only way out was joining the army / signed on
And ended up flying to Japan with a bomb
That 15 kiloton blast put an end to the war pretty fast
Two cities were blown to bits
The end of the war came quick
And Ken got out
Big hopes of a normal life with his kids and his wife / but
Then they got back to their home / and
What they saw made them feel so alone
These people had trashed every room
Smashed in the windows and bashed in the doors
Written on the walls and the floor:
"Japs not welcome anymore"
And Kenji dropped both of his bags at his sides and just stood outside
He looked at his wife without words to say
And she looked back at him wiped the tears away
And said someday we'll be okay / someday
Now the names have been changed but the story's true
My family was locked up back in '42
My family was there
Where it was dark and damp
And they called it an "internment camp"

"When we first got back from camp, It was pretty bad."
"I remember my husband said, 'Oh. We're going to stay 'til last.' Then my husband died before they close the camp."

Redemption Song by Bob Marley

Old pirates, yes, they rob I;
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong
By the hand of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom?
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs,
Redemption songs.

Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfill the Book.

Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom?
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs,
Redemption songs,
Redemption songs.

Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our mind.
Wo! Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them-a can-a stop-a the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look?
Yes, some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfill the book.
Won't you have to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever had:
Redemption songs -
All I ever had:
Redemption songs:
These songs of freedom,
Songs of freedom.

Scarecrow by Melissa Etheridge

Showers of your crimson blood
Seep into a nation calling up a flood
Of narrow minds who legislate
Thinly veiled intolerance
Bigotry and hate

But they tortured and burned you
They beat you and they tied you
They left you cold and breathing
For love they crucified you

I can't forget hard as I try
This silhouette against the sky

Scarecrow crying
Waiting to die wondering why
Scarecrow trying
Angels will hold carry your soul away

This was our brother
This was our son
This shepherd young and mild
This unassuming one
We all gasp this can't happen here
We're all much too civilized
Where can these monsters hide

But they are knocking on our front door
They're rocking in our cradles
They're preaching in our churches
And eating at our tables

I search my soul
My heart and in my mind
To try and find forgiveness
This is someone child
With pain unreconciled
Filled up with father's hate
Mother's neglect
I can forgive But I will not forget

Scarecrow crying
Waiting to die wondering why
Scarecrow trying
Rising above all in the name of love

Composed by Abel Meeropol (aka Lewis Allan)
Originally sung by: Billie Holiday

Southern trees bear strange fruit
Blood on the leaves
Blood at the root
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees
Pastoral scene of the gallant south
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth
The scent of magnolia sweet and fresh
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh
Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck
for the rain to gather
for the wind to suck
for the sun to rot
for the tree to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop