"We're the prophetic generation of bottled water, causing poor populations to die.
You went beyond and you lost it all, why did you go there?
You and me, we’ll all go down in history, with a sad Statue of Liberty and a generation that didn't agree...
What is in us that turns a deaf ear to the cries of human suffering?
They were crying when their sons left, all young men must go.
He's come so far to find the truth, he's never going home.
Young men standing on the top of their own graves wondering when Jesus comes, are they gonna be saved?
Welcome to the soldier side, where there's no one here but me. People all grow up to die.
What's the philosophy of displaced mines, the bombing of all homes and villages? The cold insincerity of steel machines have consumed our euphoria, transforming us into muted dreams. Dreaming of the day that we attack, all the years of propaganda we shall attack."
Vivemos tão concentrados no passeio que pisamos, que nos esquecemos de ouvir aquilo que nos gritam tão desesperadamente para que se saiba. Abre os olhos.