Los Rastas de Mi Barrio
Sara Hebe
The Rastas from My Neighborhood
A voice in my head tells me to start thinking
Since you were a kid, you’ve been a mental slacker
Your lack of will is so strong
Like the desire to fill the Monumental
And make you think
Music is plastic
The instrumental is elastic
Introverted, extramental, sublingual
Everything I handle makes me want to puke
I’m the worst, so no one can imitate me
Killing yourself and wanting to kill
Killing yourself and wanting to
Between the jungle and the desert
I decide and I get it right
How much is a lie and how much is desert?
I can’t stop thinking
About that not even for a second
I can’t stop thinking
Between the jungle and the desert
I decide and I get it right
How much is a lie and how much is desert?
I can’t stop thinking
About that not even for a second
The rastas from my neighborhood
Don’t listen to reggae
The street is what made
Their hair get tangled
The rastas from my neighborhood
Don’t listen to reggae
They hear voices telling them
Alice dies in the land of malice
Here, humans still die at the hands of the militia
There’s a burned ice factory
A street cat being guarded
A wall all tagged up
The square is taken
The street is blocked
A house is occupied
It’s the same old boots
Evictions at dawn
Old lady, don’t do anything
Don’t ask and don’t tell
I’ll be waiting for you at the station
Freedom hoarded
I’ll be standing right here
The suitcase is borrowed
I carry it full of nothing
Without a shield and without a sword
Girls of democracy
We receive, we give, we give thanks
This saves me from the other
It’s not the same
Being a peer of the dictatorship
Than being dragged by Menemism
Between the jungle and the desert
I decide and I get it right
How much is a lie and how much is desert?
I can’t stop thinking
About that not even for a second
I can’t stop thinking
Between the jungle and the desert
I decide and I get it right
How much is a lie and how much is desert?
I can’t stop thinking
About that not even for a second
The rastas from my neighborhood
Don’t listen to reggae
The street is what made
Their hair get tangled
The rastas from my neighborhood
Don’t listen to reggae
They hear voices telling them what they want
You want the one-to-one back
Adding millions who die one by one
Didn’t you realize?
Japan is just around the corner
