(blood on my hands. Could also be ‘blood of my hands’)
Mi espirto ya esta cansado de cadensa psychologicas de porbesa, Ahorra me quito mis manos de mis ojos ey miro
la relidad, Ey porque acceptamos positions sub-servillente sin preguntas! No tenemos que viver asi! De nacimento
nos ensenan que creer que los blancos son mejor que los morenous, Ey se emponen a acceptar la dominacion de
hombres sobre mujeres, Estos tradiciones tienen que acabar siempore!
My spirit is already tired of the psychological cadence of poverty. Now I take my hands from my eyes and
look at reality. And why do we accept subservient positions without question? We don’t have to live like this!
From birth they teach us to believe that the whites are better than blacks (note: ‘morenos’ actually means
dark-complected people rather than African people, but there isn’t a good english translation.) And they
persist in accepting the domination of men over women. These traditions must be finished forever and ever!
Sangre de mis manos!
Todos somos ninos de dios ey ningun gobierno puede negar lo, Ni dinero ni politica puede ebfrentar la verda que es
eterna, Postivo advance social aqui no es enivetable, Pero que queremos en est dia? La verda ‘o’ una vida de
menttiras!
All of us are children of god, and no government can deny it. Neither money nor politics can confront the
truth that is eternal. Positive social advance isn’t inevitable here. But what do we want in this day? The
truth, or a life of lies?
Sangre de mis manos!