While your mother wears the jackboot,
You have no time to lose.
Slip away in your rat drawn shoes
To live to fight another day.
With the students in the streets,
you’ll rain petrol on their heads.
The iron fist wants to bust your balls,
and make your brother eat some lead.
Your lips are dry and your eyes are burning
as the crowd starts to disperse.
It was the summer of your first love,
until the curfew fell.
Backstabbing bastards were wearing the necklace,
and burning in the fields.
Riot police smoking lucky strikes,
as they flirted with the girls.
While the president of some foreign country
told you everything was well.
I bet you felt very macho
all the time you were raising hell!
Jackboot summer you will never forget.
The sound of rubber bullets
as they pass by your head.
It was a jackboot summer.
You spent time in a closet
discovering what you need.
Then like the bulls of Pamplona,
you chased it in the streets.
Electronic eyes of nations
were present at the scene.
Recording every moment
for the folks that watch tee vee.
You never thought for a moment that
you were winning anything.
Jackboot summer you will never forget.
The sound of rubber bullets
as they pass by your head.
It was a jackboot summer.
lyrics and music by Javier Hernandez-Miyares
I wrote this song in praise of the first intifada, and it is deliberately ironic, because we were watching it on our distorted tee vees.
The style of the tune is tropical blues.
Jackboot Summer
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