A Los Tambores

On the skin of the drum, the blood echoes, (echoes)
the crowd dances, wrapped in their tribal rage ...
How many days have passed?
How many years have gone by?
How many kids are there ...?

And the people
who keep dreaming the things that others believed
Live singing slogans that used to mean something ...
Not anymore, not anymore, they don't mean anything now
What? They mean, they mean, they mean so much more ... more ... more ...

Disfigured faces
only seen around here.
From the delirium that grows
the carnival is coming for us.
I don't want it to end
the thrill of living.
Always on this ride
free as a bird for me ...

I am this way
and I take responsibility
nothing and no one
can change me ...

I am this way
and I take responsibility
nothing and no one
can change me ...

To the drums. (hey!)
To the drums. (hey!)
To the drums. (hey!)
To the drums. (hey!)