For the Love of Cuba by InspiringMuse

RADIO APOCALYPSE

# **FOR THE LOVE OF CUBA**

*[slow opening — lone trumpet, distant surf]*

**Verse 1**
For the love of Cuba,
I will wear the flowers red,
Carry every song they tried
To silence in my head.
From Havana in the morning
To the mountains turning blue,
There are things no flag can capture—
There is simply loving you.

**Pre-Chorus**
Not the government, not the argument,
Not the speeches from afar—
I mean the hands that pour the coffee,
And the old man with his guitar.

**CHORUS**
**Cuba, Cuba—mi corazón,**
Drum in my blood, fire in my song.
You can close the door,
You can build the wall,
But you cannot stop a people
From remembering it all.

**Cuba, Cuba—mi corazón,**
Sugar and salt, sorrow and sun.
When the whole room rises,
I will rise there too—
Not against the world,
**But for the love of Cuba.**

**Verse 2**
For the mothers at the windows,
For the children in the street,
For the dancers making heaven
With two battered, restless feet.
For the poets and the painters,
For the ones who sailed away,
For the ones who stayed and planted
One more flower anyway.

**Pre-Chorus**
Politics can draw a border,
History can leave a scar,
But an island isn't policy—
**A people are who people are.**

**CHORUS**
**Cuba, Cuba—mi corazón,**
Drum in my blood, fire in my song.
You can close the door,
You can build the wall,
But you cannot stop a people
From remembering it all.

**Bridge — percussion builds**

Let the conga answer thunder.
Let the trumpet answer fear.
Let the old songs find the young ones.
Let the ones who left still hear.

**¡Aquí estamos!**
We are still here.
**¡Aquí estamos!**
Year after year.

No president owns you.
No party defines you.
No enemy contains you.
No history confines you.

*[music drops to hand drum + voice]*

An island is more than
the men behind microphones.

It is grandmother's kitchen.
Dominoes on the table.
A trumpet through an open window.
Salt on your skin.
Someone calling your name
from half a block away.

And flowers—

**red enough to remember.**

**FINAL CHORUS**

**CUBA, CUBA—MI CORAZÓN!**
Turn up the drum, let the whole world come.
Whatever tomorrow
may put us through,
Tonight we sing—

**for the people,
for the island,
for the memory,
for the future,
FOR THE LOVE OF CUBA.**

*[trumpet holds one long note; waves underneath]*

**Cuba… mi corazón.**

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RADIO APOCALYPSE # **FOR THE LOVE OF CUBA** *[slow opening — lone trumpet, distant surf]* **Verse 1** For the love of Cuba, I will wear the flowers red, Carry every song they tried To silence in my head. From Havana in the morning To the mountains turning blue, There are things no flag can capture— There is simply loving you. **Pre-Chorus** Not the government, not the argument, Not the speeches from afar— I mean the hands that pour the coffee, And the old man with his guitar. **CHORUS** **Cuba, Cuba—mi corazón,** Drum in my blood, fire in my song. You can close the door, You can build the wall, But you cannot stop a people From remembering it all. **Cuba, Cuba—mi corazón,** Sugar and salt, sorrow and sun. When the whole room rises, I will rise there too— Not against the world, **But for the love of Cuba.** **Verse 2** For the mothers at the windows, For the children in the street, For the dancers making heaven With two battered, restless feet. For the poets and the painters, For the ones who sailed away, For the ones who stayed and planted One more flower anyway. **Pre-Chorus** Politics can draw a border, History can leave a scar, But an island isn't policy— **A people are who people are.** **CHORUS** **Cuba, Cuba—mi corazón,** Drum in my blood, fire in my song. You can close the door, You can build the wall, But you cannot stop a people From remembering it all. **Bridge — percussion builds** Let the conga answer thunder. Let the trumpet answer fear. Let the old songs find the young ones. Let the ones who left still hear. **¡Aquí estamos!** We are still here. **¡Aquí estamos!** Year after year. No president owns you. No party defines you. No enemy contains you. No history confines you. *[music drops to hand drum + voice]* An island is more than the men behind microphones. It is grandmother's kitchen. Dominoes on the table. A trumpet through an open window. Salt on your skin. Someone calling your name from half a block away. And flowers— **red enough to remember.** **FINAL CHORUS** **CUBA, CUBA—MI CORAZÓN!** Turn up the drum, let the whole world come. Whatever tomorrow may put us through, Tonight we sing— **for the people, for the island, for the memory, for the future, FOR THE LOVE OF CUBA.** *[trumpet holds one long note; waves underneath]* **Cuba… mi corazón.**

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