I breathe an air that is not fertile I would see
As the carpets grow they would no longer smell
I feel bad breath is brought by the wind
The air I breathe is an infected air
I contract my nasal passages tightly
I try not to inhale your steam
I know what your fear is
He is surrounded by people
He is surrounded by people
Who sweats and looks at you with hunger and it piles up
Around your fear that awaits the hour
Impressed by the suffering
Making a slow attempt
To divert the movement of your thought
If you return once once and once again
At the moment of total control
Of this true story
That everything we did I can't know if it works
Just for saying that to live is to suffer
br/>Choose, vote but never settle
Because against man they kill and hide
Blood and more blood
Runs through the streets spilled by ignorant people
That surely will not It bothers them
I forcefully contract my nostrils
I try not to inhale your vapor, I know what your fear is
You are surrounded by people
My doubt is so great that I feel that lasts me
Sure that I am mute
How pure the beauty if it were not so hard
Climbing all the time without taking any height
Deriving all luck to the weakness of our culture
And there is almost no doubt about that
You said that it is not worth taking on the problem of other people's lives
More than in a reassuring talk
Consciousness and above all consoling her
Live the good life and enjoy it without overshadowing it or stripping it
Of the constant rigid and cold tranquility
Like its tremendous and wild stability of high voltage
Hurtful coward too decadent also decadent.
I come to tell you
No one exists on the street
We can be masters in this city
But hand in hand you and I are the same
I want tell me what you are going to do Let's see
I think what I'm saying is that I think it can't be
But it doesn't matter if someone can beat me because this is my style
I can hit you and I can kill you and I can kill you hit again
But there is no one who can kill or step on this vocal style
We go out during the day to see who is looking at us
We have the glass we have the beer
We have the time we have the mines
We have your way of being
I come to tell you
No one exists in the street
We can be masters in this city
But hand in hand you and I are same

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