Song of a Middle-Class Man (Canción de un hombre medio)

Music piece by:
Sergio Vesely
Testimony by:
Sergio Vesely
Experience in:

In our political discussions, we always spoke disdainfully of the middle class. In the view of the Marxist ideologues in prison, that sector of society supported the dictatorship and it was necessary to reverse that trend.

It was not active support but rather passive support that involved laying low and getting by with the dictatorship. Where possible, it was a case of don't see, don't hear and don't say anything that might smell of politics.

There was general agreement that it was necessary to do something to awaken those people. The only disagreements being as to the means to achieve this end; and this depended on whether you were a MIR(Revolutionary Left Movement) Left-wing political organisation founded in 1965 at the Univ. of Concepción. supporter, a communist, a socialist or an ideologue of any other party or group. In this respect, prison did not bring us any progress.

The daily regime at Valparaíso Jail obliged you to spend most of the day locked in your cell. If I was lucky to have a guitar to keep me company, I could transform that reclusion into fleeting freedom that lasted until the prison guard opened the latch the next morning. Something of the sort must have happened the night I wrote this song.

I forgot my troubles and the idea occurred to me to describe a typical middle-class guy, somewhat submissive and timorous, modestly singing verses that end with him saying that phrase we so hoped to hear him say: “now I like the reds”.


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Published on: 23 September 2015

I ask permission of those here
I am Mr Nobody and I come to chat with you.
I will tell you about it in tune
with a pretty melody.
I ask permission of those here
I am Mr Nobody and I’ve come to chat with you.

In this country were seen
strange things a while back.
I will tell you about it in tune
with a pretty melody.
A bunch of soldiers arrived
bullets flew, what brutality.

Then they proclaimed order
and swore to defend our nation.
I will tell you about it in tune
with a pretty melody.
And now dollars come
to consolidate our freedom.

Look, it’s not that I hold a grudge.
I’m down and can’t shout.
I will tell you about it in tune
with a pretty melody.
They imposed curfews
and there was no war here, what a disaster.

They say you’re white
and if they say you are black, they tell you to get out of here.
I will tell you about it in tune
with a pretty melody.
They take you for a fool
and they jail you if you start shooting.

I may not be tactful
but this smells bad to me.
I will tell you about it in tune
with a pretty melody.
If one disagrees
and sees a uniform, better take off fast.

I have always been a democrat
a middle-class Chilean and apolitical.
I will tell you about it in tune
with a pretty melody.
Now I like the reds
just between you and me, but it’s the truth.

I ask permission of those here
I am Mr Nobody and I’ve come to chat with you.




Related testimonies:

  • The Black King (El rey negro)  Sergio Vesely, Campamento de Prisioneros Melinka, Puchuncaví, 1975

    One cold winter night of 1975, the small clinic of Melinka, in the Puchuncaví Detention Camp, became the setting for a touching story.

  • National Anthem of Chile  Boris Chornik Aberbuch, Campamento de Prisioneros Melinka, Puchuncaví, March 1975

    The Puchuncaví detention camp’s daily routine included mandatory participation in the ceremonies of raising and taking down the Chilean flag on the flagpole at the entrance to the camp.

  • Dreams of my Imprisonment (Sueños de mi encierro)  Mario Patricio Cordero Cedraschi, Cárcel de Valparaíso, Winter of 1975

    I’d spent two years in prison and there was no end in sight for my time in jail. I observed during visiting hours that many prisoners had children, a wife, family.

  • Ode to Joy (Himno a la alegría)  Luis Madariaga, Cárcel de Valparaíso, 1974 - 1976

    In prison, we would sing the 'Ode to Joy' when a comrade was released or sent to exile.

  • To Sing by Improvising (Pa’ cantar de un improviso)  Claudio Enrique Durán Pardo (Kila Chico), Campamento de Prisioneros Melinka, Puchuncaví, June 1975

    We made a Venezuelan cuatro from a large plank of wood attached to one of the walls of the "ranch" where we ate.