---

A nation divided by war forced to kill each other

Tales written with blood, the blood of our fathers

Felt the call of freedom, the anarchist brigades

Pick up a gun to fight the fascist plagues

Marching until Aragón and haunting door by door

Hear grenades explosions crushing all the holes, so everyone's dead

Soviet tanks spitting fire to the hole

Piles of cadavers bleeding on the snow

African army surrounding all the lines

Phalangists cowards awaiting for the attack

Ebro become the curse of war

Long bloody battles, crossfire in the night

Death and destruction is all they'll ever know

Fighting on the ruins that they once called home

And giving dead to enemies that they once called sibs

For all that they was fight killing their own brothers

Inevitable falling, they expected the worst

Call of help that never was heard for no one

Voluntaries retreat, republic was condemned

Catalonia was the last bastion of them

Few hard choices left, fight until death or die in exile

The dream of freedom is crying tears of blood

Brothers and sons fired against the wall

Leading exile into the lion's den

After crossing the freezing Pyrenees

Dodging german bombers attacking from the sky

Hunger, cold, diseases, nobody would survive

Death and destruction is all they'll ever know

Fighting on the ruins that they once called home

Tales of blood

Spilled between brothers

Tales of blood

Forced to kill each other

Tales of blood

By the fascist greed

Tales of blood

And we don't forget