Nicaragua is Managua, the city
There is still a gust, a sign
A wound on the future, fragile
Deserted palaces, stone eagles sign themselves
When memory writes Latin history
Nicaragua
Live there, survive there, love there
Without really knowing if it's possible
To live there, survive there, stay there
Almost in exile, like on an island
Matagualpa, Nicaragua, the city
Eagles leaning over civil statues
A sky stretched like a fabric , fragile
In the sierra it's the servile contra
FM music against Latin kalas
Nicaragua
Live there, survive there, sleep there
On the crack, without To be sure
To live again, to survive again, to love again
Freedom until death
If it is possible

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