Chapter 2014 – Act 03, Page 11

Às vezes paro e penso se tudo é realmente sério, ou mesmo se tudo precisa ser realmente sério. E é nesse momento que descubro o grande X da questão, tudo dependerá de nós, pois há sempre dois pesos e duas medidas.

Turn my mic up louder I got to say something.
Lightweights step it aside when we come in.
Feel it in your chest,
The syllables get pumping.
People on the street they panic and start running.
Words on loose leaf sheet complete coming.
I jump in my mind and summon the rhyme
I’m dumping.
Healing the blind I promise to let the sun in.
Sick of the dark ways
we march to the drum and
Jump when they tell us that they wanna see jumping.
Fuck that
I wanna see some fist pumping.
Risk something.
Take back what’s yours
Say something that you know they might attack you for
Cause I’m sick of being treated like I have before.
Like it’s stupid standing for what I’m standing for.
Like this war’s really just a different brand of war.
Like it doesn’t cater to rich and abandon poor.
Like they understand you in the back of the jet
When you
Can’t put gas in your tank.
And these fuckers are
Laughing their way to the bank
Cashing the check
Asking you to have compassion
Have some respect.
For a leader so nervous in obvious way
Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay
And the rest of the world watching at the end of the day
In their living room laughing like
What did he say?

Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen

In my living room watching
I am not laughing.
Cause when it gets tense I know what might happen.
The world is cold the bold men take action.
Have to react to get blown into fractions.
Ten years old, It’s something to see another
Kid my age drug under a jeep
Taken and bound
And found later under a tree
I wonder if he had thought the next one could be me.
Do you see?
The soldiers
They’re out today they
Brush the dust from bulletproof vests away.
It’s ironic.
At times like this you pray,
But a bomb blew the mosque up yesterday.
There’s bombs in the buses
Bikes
Roads
Inside your markets
Your shops
Your clothes
My dad
He’s got a lot of fear I know
But enough pride inside not to let that show.
My brother had a book he would hold with pride
A little red cover with a broken spine.
On the back he hand wrote a quote inside:
“When the rich wage war it’s the poor who die”
And meanwhile
The leader just talks away
Stuttering and mumbling for nightly news to replay
The rest of the world watching at the end of the day
Both scared and angry like
What did he say?

Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen.

With hands held high into a sky so blue
As the ocean opens up to swallow you

 

Hands held high – Linkin Park

 

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