M.L.C.a.E.

Listen up, hear the devils talking on your path
Read between the lines and know your enemy
They're everywhere, controlling your fate
That same son of a bitch who cheered for the killer

Blood on their hands, you can feel it
They want forgiveness but won't ask for it
Guilt on their faces, dark conscience
The same cowards who loved the dictatorship

Coward like a soldier
Who only learned to count to four
Calls on the homeland to justify
The thousands of dead they refuse to bear

This is the country you wanted
Killers walking among the people day by day
Corrupt justice, silent, macabre
Guilty like the pig that talks to you about change

You’ll never stand up again (with your eyes closed)
You’ll never stand up again (with your eyes closed)
You’ll never stand up again (with your eyes closed)
You’ll never stand up again (with your eyes closed)

Torture, punish, kill
Verbs you learned to conjugate
In the murderous government that bought dignity
From worms like the Cardinal, Longueira, and Bombal

They talk about peace, they talk about God, they talk about everything
They write to erase with their elbows
They're the same assholes who want you ignorant
Silent, deceived, drooling, not thinking

They have El Mercurio, they have Channel 13
They’ve conspired an army of idiots
They cover your eyes, erase your soul
Put you to sleep and Bolocco in your bed

Bertrán, Hasbún, Morandé: The owners of the brothel, you see
So you can sleep, so you don’t bark
Long live Monday, long live change, and fuck their mothers

You’ll never stand up again (with your eyes closed)

Makiza, Rekiem, eye for an eye, our lyrical fighting front

I hate your intolerant attitude, your little patience
You pay pennies, buy fools, it doesn’t weigh on your conscience
Mega, metropolis built by the magic of the national currency
I just feel rage
It’s humanity that will explode (boom)
Science goes beyond common sense

There will be more machines moving and more minds sleeping
Living in a mundane world, dying
It’s fury, it’s anger, and I sing to deaf ears, look
Fat bastards standing with their grease and filth pollute

They laugh ha, ha, ha, I laugh, grab a Honda and make them shit
Against the fence that oppresses the masses
Bullets made so many souls disappear

But there are still worms in the apple
Called Lavín, called Hasbún
I could name more but this is disgusting
They splash when I avoid that political septic pit
It’s not my apathy, my utopia, my only way: Anarchy
But the media owners don’t like my dreams
So here’s the middle finger for them
So here’s the middle finger for them
So here’s the middle finger for them