Viva La Vida Loca!

D'you know 'bout Maquiladoras?
These factories are in Honduras,
Where the women sing sad songs
Threatened by men with guns?

No one asks, no one knows
About any people of those.
You should know: in this small world
Human rights ain't more than dirt.

Freaky business is all I see!
But that's how capitalism is used to be!

From our side comes no regret.
For beauty we accept the death.
Young girl's tears run down your hat,
That once a knitting woman shed.
She suffered pain in hands and head;
No one cried, when she dropped dead.

A Silesian weaver of our time.
Poor victim of a pervert crime.
Her head was humming bad enough
But chief treated her so rough.

The bloody truth behind a brand
Is absorbed in lethal sand.
It's our stuff for best disguise
And at the same their cruel demise.