1. |
juntado
03:05
|
|||
Here we are
Huddled at the bar
Everyone with a drink in their hand!
Telling stories of broken hearts
and marches
And attempts to reclaim the land!
Hay pochos,
hueros, chicanos
Todo estan aqui!
Poetas
y ladrones
Cantando para ti!
Presentar a mi sombra
Joaquin Murrieta
But you've got your destiny
In your own hands!
Su Palabra
Es El Fusil
De la Revolution
Juntado!
We're no minority!
Me voy
A la Perla
Con La Plebe
Gonna sing along.
My friends all gonna be there
Tattoo mark
And Canadian John
Esos versos
Son para la gente
Quien marchen en las calles.
Por El primero
De mayo
Con el mundo y este valle.
Presentar a mi sombra
Che Guevara
Tienes su destino
En sus manos
Su Palabra
Es El Fusil
De la Revolucion
Levantanse!
We're no minority!
|
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2. |
no folk song
02:56
|
|||
Hit the lights with no warning,
Wake us up in the morning.
Slap them shackles on our ankles and herd us on the bus.
They say if you're in here, you ain't got nothing to lose.
Staring out the window with the county blues.
Before you sentence me
I got something to say
About how you make your living
About how you earn your pay.
Locking me up it don't do no one no good
It puts my family on welfare, like no working man would.
You got your sentencing guidelines
Well I don't give a damn
sentence me for my actions, sentence me as a man
Not another number in an orange jump suit
Your robe don't mean nothing. It's just a softer boot.
The district attorney! The district attorney! The district attorney!
Sure is hard on a man ...
"This isn't a court of justice. This is a court of law."
Words that are man-made and sure to have some flaws.
You're not objective. You're just a tool of the state.
Protecting wealth and property.
You know I can't relate.
I've seen inside your jails
You fill them with our kids.
The one without education,
So skinny you can see their ribs.
You think that this works. You are so damn wrong.
There's no rehabilitation in incarceration.
This is real talk.
yeah, it's no folk song!
|
||||
3. |
kick rocks
03:32
|
|||
You got me kickin’ rocks
on a dusty road in the middle of June.
You told me to step
if I’m gonna’ keep actin’ a fool.
And while the sun beats down on me,
you know I fight it off so hopelessly.
I should’ve known better
than to trust my own instinct.
And I’m no better than a handsome crack
on this crooked street.
With miles and miles for me to go,
I’m going to walk it straight.
So I take it slow.
With miles and miles for me to go, you know my new best friend Is a rolling stone.
You got me kickin’ rocks
in the middle of some Chunti town.
And I know I gotta get home quick
‘cause my girl’s going on down.
I shoulda known better than to try,
try to prove my love when I’m too damn high.
You got me ... Kickin’ rocks
|
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4. |
desesperados
03:25
|
|||
We gathered for the wake,
though we wanted to burn the building down.
Death was in the air,
and the truth was rotting in my mouth.
Outside the war wanted to drag us out.
She took me by the hand
and lifted up her blouse!
Sometimes the only thing is to dance and fuck.
In the street, the alley, on the bed, on the floor, on the sheets you bought the day before.
She held my hand and kissed my ear
and we screamed so everyone could hear.
Then we laughed and we sighed
because we knew it was our time.
When the streets get cold you gotta start a fire.
The devil's pounding on the door
with a flag pinned to his lapel.
He’s looking for bodies and money for his war.
The door’s about to give,
it’s going to reign in hell.
Shine your dancing shoes,
and take your final shot.
Exalt your lover –
‘cause this isn’t all we’ve got!
I won’t ask you to stay.
I know you’re itching to go.
There’s so much that I’ve said
and there’s so much that you don’t know.
I’ll save it for another night in another life.
The one where I’m your husband,
the one where you’re my wife.
|
||||
5. |
boulevard
03:04
|
|||
Well I hung around with the radical crowd
always talking about being down
for the revolution that’s to come.
Filled with jargon and memorized quotes
ideologues on their own black boat:
clashin’ is in fashion – but it don’t make change.
Like a skipping CD, saying one of these days,
meanwhile smoked up in a haze,
watching the world just pass us by.
Now I’ve read the books and I subscribe
but the questions begs and I wonder why –
why are waiting for a sunnier day?
Revolution is a boulevard down in Mexico
pissed on by Yankees drunk on wealth.
A ten letter word, but action is meaning,
so tell me, what have you done?
Now I believe in insurrection
and institution is power’s preservation
but in the day to day, that’s where we start.
Like the first rain drop, little changes add up
and before you know it, you’ve got a flood,
instead of waiting for a big fucking bang!
Ask yourself what’d I do today?
Did I ask a question, did I walk away?
Take it one step at a time.
All alone you can’t change it all
because when you do, they expect you to fall.
I’ll pick you up, but what’d you do today?
|
||||
6. |
hey fucker
01:53
|
|||
Hey Fucker!
I miss you.
Where ever you are.
The distance to heaven
is just a beat of the heart.
They ask me about you
and I tell them the truth.
Can’t believe what I said,
can’t believe that it’s true.
Hey Fucker!
I miss you.
Just where did you go?
All of our friends,
they all want to know.
The distance to Heaven
is just a beat of the heart.
I tell them the truth
and we all fall apart.
I still dream about you
and I still cry.
Why’d you go away?
Why’d you have to go and ...
Hey Fucker!
I miss you.
Are you ready to talk?
I’m no longer angry.
I guess it’s time to move on.
The distance to Heaven
is just the beat of a heart.
What’d you discover?
That the end’s just the start,
yeah the end’s just the start,
that the end is just the start.
|
||||
7. |
witness
03:13
|
|||
There is no simple life.
There is no American dream.
There is capital and commodity
and forgettin’ what you’ve seen.
First you lose your tongue.
Then you lose your family.
Assimilate and surrender.
Middle class be the death of me.
We’re witness to the madness.
Manifest destiny.
Global reproduction
squeezin’ all humanity.
Wake up just to count the hours
until you can go back to sleep.
As if a rested body
can fight this disease.
I live at the intersection
of Salinas and West Alisal.
And I watch the traffic,
all them trucks headin’ out of town.
Now I’m not from here,
but it’s my home now.
And just like the others ...
I am plotting my way out.
|
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