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Musical: Kiss Of The Spider Woman
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Valentin: It was made out of mud And pieces of tin And boxes nailed together Cardboard boxes My castle My home And we slept on the floor My sister and I With gunny sacks for our pillows Coughing, hungry, cosy My home And every Sunday on our knees We would thank the Lord For his bountiful blessings And our mother poured soup Into little cracked bowls As she spoke of something better Beef steak, maybe, someday My home And that lady had eyes That were empty and cold At the ripe old age of thirty Death came Welcome To my home And still that Sunday On our knees How we thanked the Lord For his bountiful blessings And my sister and I Swore the day that we left There'd be no more children like us In the filth there in the heat there. In the smell there And no more Sundays On our knees Would we thank the Lord For his bountiful blessings And we came to the city And begged for our food Then, one April day we heard it Thunder rumbling One man speaking Thousands singing .. Someday we'll be free I promise you, we'll be free If not tomorrow Then the day after that And the candles in our hands Will illuminate this land If not tomorrow Then the day after that And the world that gives us pain That fills our lives with fear On the day after that Will disappear And the war we've fought to win I promise you, we will win If not tomorrow Then the day after that Or the day after that Valentin: and families of the disappeared Someday we'll be free I promise you, we'll be free If not tomorrow Then (Or) the day after that And the candles in our hands Will illuminate this land If not tomorrow Then the day after that And the world that gives us pain That fills our lives with fear On the day after that Will disappear Will disappear And the war we've fought to win I promise you, we will win If not tomorrow Then the day after that Or the day after that Or the day after that Or the day after that Or the day after that Or the day After that!
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