Minas Piedras
Juanes
Stony Paths
They are paths of paths
Where the stones are the mines
That are breaking bones
of the complaining earth
leaving hope disabled
The sweet voice of a child
turns into the storm
of uncontrollable crying
of visceral pains
that innocence doesn't understand
The trees are crying
they are witnesses of many years of violence
The sea is brown, a mix of blood with the earth
But here they come down from the mountain with hope
The mothers who pray for their children
and whose books for school are their dreams
But here they come down from the mountain with hope
men and children badly wounded, seeking asylum
seeking a place, to dream and love
We don't deserve to be forgotten, we are the voice of the people
says a man sitting, with his two eyes blindfolded
but who still holds hope in his hands
The trees are crying
they are witnesses of many years of violence
The sea is brown, a mix of blood with the earth
But here they come down from the mountain with hope
The mothers who pray for their children
and whose books for school are their dreams
But here they come down from the mountain with hope
men and children badly wounded, seeking asylum
seeking a place, to dream and love
They are paths of paths (X3)
