The animal trainer lives for his beasts
While a stuck-up regime won’t live for him
The bookbinder tends to endless words
Obeying the government’s every whim
The button sewer repairs sickly garments
And keeps his shop from going under
The CD vendor can’t sell what he loves
Like the beautiful sounds of lighting and thunder
The clown never fails to put on a show
Yet will hide his innermost thoughts
As well will the farmer who does what he knows,
Feeding Castro as he watches the clocks.
The horseshoe maker is shrouded in fear
Making haste in his terrible work,
The politician won’t voice his concern,
For about the island fears of death lurk.

All these men are afraid of their lives
They never chose them, and neither did I
It was the work of an evil mechanical fiend
The one we call Castro, the one to whom they heed.