La gente no responde

It's a mystery what's happening
What's going on here in my country
In a land of nations, of traditions
In a summary of South America
We find ourselves united in an endless abyss
Because mediocre and false ones don't consider feast

It should end
They should leave
It should come to an end

But people don't respond
Don't respond
People don't respond

Of course, I understand that making mistakes is easy
But once, not ten, not a hundred
But these same characters
The ones who gnaw at us
The same beasts you voted for yesterday
Not only steal money to flee later
But then they get offended
If they try to catch them

It should end
They should pay
It should come to an end

But people don't respond

In a country where retirees barely eat
Being a deputy means being a great landowner
And there's no tastier way to spend winters
Than when you have a relative in the government

Years go by, and the mandates
But we keep voting for toads and cowards
What a coincidence, Latin America
We're still in the crap from Mexico to Argentina

The political class of my country
Enjoys and survives with the amnesia of its people
The political class of my country
Parties with our money in exile

It's not a mystery what's happening
Everything is wrong here in my country
It should end
Without having to emigrate
It should come to an end

But people don't respond
Don't respond
People don't respond