Nas Chagas
Resgate
In The Wounds
Flowers grow on the asphalt
While the men check their pockets
They abandon their old ones
While sacrificing their young men in a guerrilla war
There is a renewal that only rises
And it sprouts in the dry land
Despised by men
Who now fight over the poor sewage on the ground of life
Soaked in blood and hatred, wounds open
And the truth has come to the eyes that can see
Tired
Mothers of May who cry in our squares
They are the bride waiting for her children
That the son translates
In the wounds
All the pain and blood of our homes
That finally rested on the fists nailed to the cross
Hope rests
And almost all love grows cold
Only the bones remain
And who ever hoped for rest in the ancient homeland
Soaked in blood and hate
They are opening wounds
And the truth has come to the eyes that can see
Tired
Mothers of May who cry in our squares
They are the bride waiting for her children
That the son translates
In the wounds
All the pain and blood of our homes
That finally rested on the fists nailed to the cross
Tired
Mothers of May who cry in our squares
They are the bride waiting for her children
That the son translates
In the wounds
All the pain and blood of our homes
That finally rested on the fists nailed to the cross
