Mais do Mesmo

Hey, white boy, what are you doing here?
Climbing the hill trying to have some fun?
But I already told you there’s none
And you still want more

Why don’t you just leave me alone?
Why don’t you just leave me alone?

Out of these twenty years, none were made for me
And now you want me to stay like you?
Really, how am I supposed to grow if nothing grows around here?

Who’s gonna take care of the sick
When there’s a massacre of teenagers?
How do you feel?
How do you feel?

Instead of light, there’s gunfire at the end of the tunnel
Oh, always more of the same
Wasn’t this what you wanted to hear?

Ah, how kind of you to explain with such determination
Exactly what I feel, how I think, and who I am
I really didn’t know I thought like that

And now you want
A portrait of the country?
But they burned the film
They burned the film

And in the meantime, in the infirmary
All the sick are singing
Popular hits, popular hits
Popular hits, popular hits
Popular hits (and all the Indians, Indians, Indians, Indians, Indians, Indians, Indians were killed, killed, killed, killed, killed, killed, killed)
(And all the Indians, Indians, Indians, Indians, Indians, Indians, Indians were killed, killed, killed, killed, killed, killed, killed)