Refugiados

Sometimes, men like you and me,
must walk many paths to find their land.
Old heroes from a tavern in town or city,
former fighters from many years of peace,
their damp clothes in the fog
hide their downcast faces.

They are the flag of shame,
they make your conscience break.

Chimney in a barrel and a cardboard bed,
with a blow to my chest I give them my absolution.

Sometimes, men like you and me,
must walk many paths to find their land,
gathered by chance and in misery,
it doesn't matter to them to kill for drugs or for bread.

Mutant beggars,
junkies and foreigners,
hunger is denied to them and that's the first thing.
If someone shoots in their place, some would end them all.
They are the flag of shame,
they make your conscience tremble.

Chimney in a barrel and a cardboard bed,
with a blow to my chest I give them my absolution.

Chimney in a barrel and a cardboard bed,
residence in a doorway or residential city,
with a blow from my chest I give them my absolution,
without getting on my knees I have obtained forgiveness.