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Today they slaughter me like a pig for not agreeing with canned goods and soldiers, for not wanting altars of gold and blood. They accuse me of being a rebel, agitator and revolutionary, for not think the same and say it.
Let those who abuse my people daily
Water falls from the sky,
Only a sea of u200bu200bdisconsolation
This full silence becomes eternal of real desolation.
My mother called me Jesus
And today my people cry for me on the cross.
But one day, everything will change,
There will be a church that will understand
The repressed and not the repressor.
And will she be honest like I was? or maybe not.
The thorn is already stuck,
There is no forgiveness for those who crush,
Telling a single story,
To those who do not find a solution
My mother called me Jesus
And today my people cry for me on the cross.
But one day, everything will change,
There will be a church that will understand
When repressed and not the repressor.
And will she be honest like I was? or maybe not.