Hermanos Del Tiempo

I thank you so much, so much Lord
for giving me a guitar instead of a cannon
I thank you so much, so much Lord
for making me a singer
that you made me out of love
This is a theorem turned into a poem
hope can save us
lift that face not everything is so bad
the end is still far away
Because while the scientist
builds a new projectile for destruction
two young people surrender to love
and as a result there will be a new creation
Brothers, brothers, brothers of time
this planet is everyone's home
in the war between brothers there are no winners
it's a millionaire list of losers
Brothers, brothers, brothers of time
this planet is everyone's home
borders are drawings on maps
that I still can't understand
A child at the desk, another at the plow
a young man, due to hunger, graduates as a thief
don't talk to me about wars or insurrections
my weapon is the nuclear guitar
Because while a new missile is being mass-produced
a child at the lectern soaks his reading with love
as if saying to the elders 'come on, learn from me'
Brothers, brothers, brothers of time
this planet is everyone's home
in the war between brothers there are no winners
it's a millionaire list of losers
This planet is everyone's home
borders are drawings on maps
that I still can't understand
I thank you so much, so much Lord
for giving me a guitar instead of a cannon
I thank you so much, so much Lord
for making me a singer
that you made me out of love