Só mais um clique.

It's not a sin of a bum
to be on the sight of a gun
Sadness is wide spread
you can find anyone dead

A bitter taste of abandon
fill our hearts with sorrow
In every city, total boredom
Oh, their minds are so narrow

The kids marching out
of robotization factories
Cities growing in oil clouds
ignoring life of the colectivities

Children are born dying
disappearing among the mist
I find my mind flying
looking for a necessary twist

Our life is at an edge of thorns
So maybe we should be reborn
to create new ways of earning
a clean and fair political learning