They haven't departed
They haven't gone home
The trials haven't started
No evidence shown
They don't get no visits
They don't get no calls,
and nobody tells them nothing at all

The headphones and the blindfolds,
the days and the weeks
The overalls of orange, the manacled feet
A Kafka-esque nightmare
A legal black hole
A corner of Cuba
named Guantanamo

The warmongers tell us
they gave up their rights
when they attacked us
and our way of life
Oh but our way of life
depends on the law
On liberty and freedom
and justice for all

Well they talk about justice in the US of A
It's the land of the free and the home of the brave
Yea, but outside of America anything goes
From Bagram to Abu Ghrai
to Guantanamo

In 70's Ulster the government thought
if they locked up the suspects
the terror would stop
But all that internment actually did
was provide the Provos
with more angry kids

Oh but sometimes I wonder if our leaders really care?
They rely on these demons to keep people scared
And unwilling to question the fate of those poor souls who lie
rotting in the cages of Guantanamo

They run for it down the road,
With an arm around her waist,
He leads her to a place,
He knows