Una Flor Sobre Mi Tumba
Masacre
A Flower on My Grave
Slow!!!
And the churches with their golden altars
And population in slums in front of the suburbs
In front of them, they rot in money and filth
Riches while men crawl
In the mud of the faith that eats away at the
Brains of the pigs, where is the humility?
Doctrine...
Grimace...
Without a tongue...
Who speaks?
Who sins?
Who lies?
The manure surpasses
The ideas that trample
The manure tramples today
And the churches with their golden altars
And populations above the slums
In front of the filthy cathedrals
They rot in money and riches
While men crawl
In the mud of the faith that eats away at the brains
Of the pigs, doctrine, humility
Simplicity and surrender, teachings
Now the eternal will
Will always be eternal
What will death do
When there is nothing
Left in the world?
