There are pigs at bay at the Bay of Pigs
In between the means it will justify the end
Their road is paved with bad intentions
Coz every good is followed by some evil inventions
The loose mud sticks, detach or affix
A US invasion thrown in the mix
Futile bid to dethrone go away
Fidel is here to stay
Cockroach urn, the worm will turn
How many cigars can you fit upon a fern?
The evil beast cannot usurp their den
Strike while the hot rod irons burn
The Playa Girón counter-offensive
Castro's Cuban armed force defensive
From a Pentagon the deposing plan cooks
To Whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
Cradle for a cat, Wolfe howls back
How many Cuban missiles fit upon a match?
I want to know why Syd Barrett cracked
Sometimes the strings just cannot attach
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem