Matar o Morir

Young is the blood that rulers step on,
Young is the blood that the general steps on,
Expensive is the price, of their power and wealth,
Fear, horror, and death, to gain greatness.
What can I do? Kill!
What can I do? Kill!
What can I do? Kill!
What can I do? Kill!
And the young soldier, always asking the time,
While sons of bitches prepare armament,
Peace, honor, and glory, vain killer glory,
Young human lives, sacrificed without reason.
(Chorus)
Medal-wearing murderers, merciless killers,
Repressive injustice, military injustice.
(Chorus)
Juanra lost his life without knowing why he was there,
And a poorly written letter, as the only explanation,
Bastard murderers, where the hell will you stop,
And that's what we think of military justice.
(Chorus)