Le Nouveau Monde

America assassinates, destroys the root
And the voice of Good, slowly gets muffled
We would like to hold on, until tomorrow
But they want to skin us without ever taking into account
Our voices
We're going back 100,000 years
The sound of rivers chills my blood
And I only see men shouting their law
And women mesmerized, fanaticized, channeled
Under the veils
Will we pass the baton?
Is this the end of our era?
Will we hear each other tomorrow?
To avoid falling...
It's the illusion of the skies
In the name of nothing
It's the illusion of the skies