Gringo Che

Here's the tale of Gringo Che Another pig dead in the bay Gringo Che, guerilla's gun Shining in the sun Viva! La Révolution! Comandante, where ya going? Without your pen and silver spoon The army's coming for ya, son Better cross the border soon Marching along to that soulful tune A rising hum enters the scene Bullets cut through bleeding boots There goes your chosen Argentine Follow him, as he calls to you Down the ravine look there he goes Oh won't ya follow him where he goes? Gringo Che in the afternoon Hangs low in the bushy pines Whistling comandante's tune From a far off distant time In the air, I can hear it come The big red one Saying get it done, if the getting's done It's the return of the chosen ones And you know where they came from