Ghosts of Catalonia - Misery Index

Onwards together, with boundless visions of hope

The fire of souls alive, on mountains of Aragon

Clarion calls freely answered, and with haste

Brigades, volunteers defending… this chosen place

'36 swept in the tides of autonomy

Damning their odious order undone

Blood on the graves of our fathers

Armed with ideas, unwieldy and strong

Awaiting the spit of the fascist

To drive him back into Acheron

We stand at the door of upheaval, alone

As allies seek to appease

Iberia yields to oppression

Berlin gives rise to the Beast

Forward, under Lleidan skies

Condors, winding, circling high

Broken, bodies, brothers at arms

Giving, dying, with hope in their hearts

These days that we live for ourselves

Catalunya, what is to come

Fighting for three years we carried a vision

The anarchist bit, the socialist bled

Is what we had here forgotten

A ghost, a footnote in time long dead?