Protest Music

SANTO DOMINGO
Written by Phil Ochs


Purchase Album


And the crabs are crazy; they scuttle back and forth.
The sand is burning.
And the fish take flight, and scatter from the sight;
Their course is turning.
As the seagulls rest on the cold cannon nest,
The sea is churning.
The Marines have landed on the shores of Santo Domingo.

The fishermen sweat; they're pausing at their nets.
The day's a-burning.
As the war-ships sway, and thunder in the bay,
Loud in the morning.
But the boy on the shore's throwing pebbles no more.
He runs a-warning
That the Marines have landed on the shores of Santo Domingo.

The streets are still; there's silence in the hills,
The town is sleeping.
And the farmers yawn in the grey silver dawn.
The fields they're keeping
As the first troops land and step into the sand,
The flags are weeping.
The Marines have landed on the shores of Santo Domingo.

The unsmiling sun is shining down upon
The singing soldiers.
In the cloud dust whirl, they whistle at the girls.
They're getting bolder.
The old women sigh, think of memories gone by;
They shrug their shoulders.
The Marines have landed on the shores of Santo Domingo.

Ready for the tricks, their bayonets are fixed.
Now they are rolling.
And the tanks make tracks past the trembling shacks
Their fear's unfolding.
All the young wives afraid turn their backs to the parade
With babes they're holding.
The Marines have landed on the shores of Santo Domingo.

A bullet cracks the sound; the army hits the ground,
The sniper's calling
So they open up their guns, a thousand to one;
No sense in stalling.
He clutches at his head and totters on the edge.
Look now he's falling.
The Marines have landed on the shores of Santo Domingo.

In the red plaza square, the crowds come to stare,
The heat is leaning.
And the eyes of the dead are turning every head
To the widow's screaming.
But the soldiers make a bid, giving candy to the kids,
Their teeth are gleaming.
The Marines have landed on the shores od Santo Domingo.

Up and down the coast, the generals drink a toast,
The wheel is spinning.
And the cowards and the whores are peeking through the doors
To see who's winning.
But the traitors will pretend that it's getting near the end
When it's beginning.
The Marines have landed on the shores of Santo Domingo.