Correfoc
Hi ha paraules orfes de diners, hi ha discursos buits
I hi ha silencis suggerents
Conversacions que amaguen secrets
Hi ha birra en la taula, hi ha discusions càlides, delers
Hi ha senyors de tratge I vida allada, casa amurallada
Creadors de ruïna acumulada
Hi ha monstres que enganyen a la gent, a la nostra gent
Hi ha derrotes d'ultima jugada
Tants anhels que es queden en anhels, frustració allargada
Maten l'esperança de l'obrer
El cor en què gire la balança, el cap als quefers
Por I confiança, penes, plaers
I una batalla perduda des de temps immemorials
Una ràbia irracional, un voler fer el que cal
Una mà germana, un abraç sincer
El poble mana, I canta convençut el que sent I diu
En la meua boca un correfoc
En la teua orella una verbena
Si la cançó mata la pena
Som emisaris de la mort
Hi ha una verbena a la meua boca, I la vam fer junts
S'està fent de dia, glops I fum
Retardant la fi, demanen vi I volen quedar-se
Jugar, follar I revolcar-se, allà cadascú
Que isquen al pati, que el temps dilate, que traguen pit
Moren la llei, la norma I els estereotips
Moren el càlcul I "cotilles parlanxins"
Matem també a eixe fatxa que portem endins
I una foguera que incinere, I que deixe enrere
Traumes I obscuritat, que depure que allibere
Que creme la crueltat, l' avarícia I l'estafa
Que compartim el pà, l'aigua I les cases
Vam cultivar un verger al desert
T'hem descobert un oasi
Tota una vida fugint-li al present
De tots els focs farem brases
En la meua boca un correfoc
Ni furtant-nos els somnis
Ni cremant la trinxera
Ni amb la llei, ni el tricorni
Ni amb presons ni cavernes
Callaran a la fera
Fire Run
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