La marcha de la bronca

Anger when they laugh satisfied
Having bought their rights
Anger when they become moralists
And start running after artists
Anger when in broad daylight
They take out their hypocrisy for a walk
Anger of the fierce, of mine
Anger that can be recited
For those who take what is ours
With the glove of pretending
For the one who handles the strings
Of the universal puppet
For the one who has marked the decks
And always gets the best
With the ace of swords he dominates us
And with the ace of clubs he keeps giving and giving and
March! One, two
I can't see
So much organized lie
Without responding with a hoarse voice
My anger
My anger
Anger because they kill shamelessly
But nothing is ever clear
Anger because the robber steals
But so does the ruler
Anger because everything is forbidden
Even what I will do anyway
Anger because there is no bail
If they imprison our hope
Anger, anger, aaaaah
Those in charge have this world
Rotten and divided in two
Blame their desire to conquer
By force or exploitation
Anger then when they want
To cut my hair for no reason
It's better to have free hair
Than freedom with fixative
March!
I can't see
So much organized disaster
Without responding with the hoarse voice
Of anger
Of anger
Anger without rifles and bombs
Anger with two fingers in V
Anger that is also hope
March of anger and faith