Correfoc

There are words orphaned of money, there are empty speeches
And there are suggestive silences
Conversations that hide secrets
There's beer on the table, there are warm discussions, desires
There are men in suits and hidden lives, walled house
Creators of accumulated ruin
There are monsters that deceive people, our people
There are defeats of last play
So many desires that remain as desires, prolonged frustration
They kill the hope of the worker
The heart in which the balance turns, the head towards the tasks
Fear and trust, sorrows, pleasures
And a lost battle since time immemorial
An irrational rage, a desire to do what is necessary
A brotherly hand, a sincere hug
The people rule, and sing convinced of what they feel and say

In my mouth a fire run
In your ear a street party
If the song kills the sorrow
We are messengers of death

There's a street party in my mouth, and we did it together
It's getting light, sips and smoke
Delaying the end, asking for wine and wanting to stay
Playing, fucking, and rolling around, each one there
Let them go out to the courtyard, let time dilate, let them puff out their chest
They kill the law, the norm, and the stereotypes
They kill the calculation and the gossiping busybodies
We also kill that fascist we carry inside
And a bonfire that burns, and leaves behind
Traumas and darkness, that purify and liberate
That burns cruelty, greed, and fraud
That we share bread, water, and houses
We cultivated an orchard in the desert
We discovered an oasis for you
A whole life running away from the present
From all fires we will make embers

In my mouth a fire run
Not stealing our dreams
Not burning the trench
Not with the law, nor the tricorn
Not with prisons nor caves
They won't silence the beast