29 Mile Wind
All the people that I know have gotten strange,
they wear the faces of the horse, they see through eyes as black as tar, they stare at nothing but the sun,
they digest nothing but the rain, they wash their backs off with the wind,
they read about nothing more than pain.
And they're vicious and they're strict, and their stomach's always fed. And they are killers, and they are killers,
and they are killers, and they are killed.
And they piss and they shriek as they tie them to the trees. And they are killers, and they are killed, and they are killers, and they are me.
Viento de 29 millas
Toda la gente que conozco se ha vuelto extraña,
usan los rostros de los caballos, ven a través de ojos tan negros como el alquitrán, miran hacia la nada más que al sol,
digieren nada más que la lluvia, se lavan la espalda con el viento,
leen sobre nada más que dolor.
Y son viciosos y estrictos, y sus estómagos siempre están alimentados. Y son asesinos, y son asesinos,
y son asesinos, y son asesinados.
Y mean y chillan mientras los atan a los árboles. Y son asesinos, y son asesinados, y son asesinos, y soy yo.