dust and diesel
rise like incense from the road --
smoke of offering
for the revolution morning

headlights pick out fallen sack of corn
one lone tarantula standing guard.
we pull up and stop and she ambles off --
discretion much the better part of cars.
rodrigo the government driver jumps out --
he's got chickens who can use the feed.
we sweep the asphalt on our hands and knees --
fill up his trunk with dusty yellow seeds.

dust and diesel
rise like incense from the road --
smoke of offering
for the revolution morning

guitars and rifles in blue moonlight
soldiers stretched out on sparkling grass.
engine broke down -- they took us in --
now we make music for the time to pass.
tired men and women raise their voice to the night --
hope the fragile bloom they've grown will last.
pride and passion and love and fear --
burning hearts burning boats of the past.

dust and diesel
rise like incense from the road --
smoke of offering
for the revolution morning

(INTERAMERICAN HIGHWAY -- NICAARAGUA  MARCH 1983)