In the world where i live
I walk under destroyed streets;
the air that i breath
enters in my lungs as razors,
and the gray color of death everywhere
makes my eyes shed tears
Then I ask myself: why?
The night sentries watch us;
for how long time will we exist?
We're opressed by those who govern
and our desperate screams were sultry
Why doesn't the Sun Illuminate us anymore?
Why doesn't the ground feed us anymore?
