Saltar para: Posts [1], Pesquisa e Arquivos [2]

O Bico de Gás



Terça-feira, 12.08.08

Ashes in the Fall


A mass of hands press on the market window Ghosts of progress Dressed in slow death Feeding on hunger And glaring through the promise Upon the food that rots slowly in the isle A mass of nameless at the oasis That hides the graves beneath the masters hill Buried or drinking The rivers water While shackled to the line At the empty well


This is the new sound Just like the old sound Just like the noose wound Over the new ground


Listen to the fascist sing Take hope here War is elsewhere You were chosen This is god's land Soon well be free Of blot and mixture Seeds planted by our Forefathers hand


A mass of promises Begin to rupture Like the pockets Of the new world kings Like swollen stomachs In Appalachia Like the priests that fuck you As they whisper holy things A mass of tears have transformed to stones now Sharpened on suffering Woven into slings Hope lies in the rubble of this rich fortress Taking today what tomorrow never brings


This is the new sound Just like the old sound Just like the noose wound Over the new ground aint the new sound just like the old sound just like the noose wound over the new ground


Aint it funny how the factorys doors close Round the time that the school doors close Round the time that the doors of the jail cells Open up to greet you like the reaper Aint it funny how the factorys doors close Round the time that the school doors close Round the time that a hundred thousand jail cells Open up to greet you like the reaper


This is the new sound Just like the old sound Just like the noose wound Over the new ground


Like ashes in the fall

_____________________
____
Rage Against The Machine

The Battle of Los Angeles

ASENSIO

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

às 16:22


Creative Commons License


Pesquisar

Pesquisar no Blog  


calendário

Agosto 2008

D S T Q Q S S
12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930
31