2 de abril, 1982

Las Malvinas son Argentinas.



Take all your overgrown infants
away somewhere,
and build them a home,
a little place of their own,
the Fletcher Memorial Home
for incurable tyrants and kings.

And they can appear to themselves every day
on closed circuit TV,
to make sure they're still real,
it's the only connection they feel.

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome:
Reagan and Haig, Mr. Begin and friend,
Mrs. Thatcher and Paisley,
Mr. Brezhnev and party,
the ghost of McCarthy,
and the memories of Nixon;
and now, adding color,
a group of anonymous latin american
meat-packing glitterati.

Did they expect us to treat them with any respect?

They can polish their medal and sharpen their smiles,
and amuse themselves playing games for a while.
"Boom boom, bang bang, lie down, you're dead".

Safe in the permanent gaze
of a cold glass eye,
with their favourite toys,
they'll be good girls and boys,
in the Fletcher Memorial Home
for colonial wasters of life and limb.

Is everyone in?
Are you having a nice time?
Now the Final Solution can be applied...

(Pink Floyd. "The Fletcher Memorial Home". Del disco "The Final Cut", 1983)