Río Abajo

How could I sleep soundly
knowing that the power of
our south you're sinking.
You step on the most beautiful
thing we have, our
land our fertile land your
party and your goodie-goodie face
expect us to vote
for you. I want to see your bloated
corpse floating, downriver.
Words don't stop the harm
you worry about our lack of
interest, you dream too much
old man not even shitting will we
vote for you. I want to see your
bloated corpse floating, downriver.
I want to see our southern rivers flow,
don't put your Christian hands
on the most sacred thing
we have, if you keep turning your
back on the Mapuche you'll see
the power that protects you eternal
won't be, won't be, won't be, the
curse of the lands will flood you
and crush your soul, your soul,
your soul.