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"Visited two of the Guatemalan refugee camps in southern Mexico. The refugees were the survivors of terrible atrocities perpetrated by a vicious miliatary government in their homeland. In the fragile shelter of the camps, they were starved, denied medical care, and were still subjected to attacks by the Guatemalan army. The notes for this song were written over tears and a bottle of Bell's in a tiny hotel room in San Cristobal de las Casas, the nearest town to these camps."
On the Rio Lacantun, one hundred thousand wait
To fall down from starvation -- or some less humane fate
Cry for guatemala, with a corpse in every gate
If I had a rocket launcher...I would not hesitate
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