MEXICAN NATIONAL
ANTHEM
CHORUS
Mexicans, at the cry of war
Lend your swords and bridon;
retiemble in their centers and land
To the roar of the canon.
Cina-oh motherland! your brow with olive
Peace of the divine archangel,
For in heaven your eternal destiny
By the finger of God he wrote.
But should a strange enemy
To profane your ground with his,
Think, beloved fatherland! heaven
A soldier in each son gave you
CHORUS
Mexicans, at the cry of war
Lend your swords and bridon;
retiemble in their centers and land
To the roar of the canon.
Cina-oh motherland! your brow with olive
Peace of the divine archangel,
For in heaven your eternal destiny
By the finger of God he wrote.
But should a strange enemy
To profane your ground with his,
Think, beloved fatherland! heaven
A soldier in each son gave you
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