Geração Perdida

Artists moved the earth
With their cries and then they left
We were born in endless years
Children of cut-down trees
We were silence without knowing
The generation of nothing
That came back to life without dying

The spilled milk is red
Like the color of our hair
That dances, that dances

The drugs are already pale
Words without a cage
The poorly raised kids
Born with the TV

The milk spilling is red
Like the color of our hair
That dances, that dances

Lost generation
Artists, Black folks, mom
Our dead without life
The pain that still hurts