In Angola they feel prisoners political accused of any crime. They say that it is a democratic regime that it is in the middle of the joy of their functions. The democratic potencies close the eyes and they point that it is like this that it is good, that it is like this that it is made the stability in Africa. Here is the income of the terrorism of which Europe is not gotten to loosen. Who supports the corruption and their dictatorships, in the bottom it is also terrorist without the knowledge.

segunda-feira, 22 de dezembro de 2014

The militias of our implacable destruction


The militias attack sly 
In the defense of the personal fortunes 
With cannons and battering rams, turbulent 
They protect the marginal foreigners 
And the salespersons of palm trees 
And their anal hair 
Forces of the order no, militias yes 
Of the flatterers type like this 
The pink map of Angola 
It is redrawn 
Portuguese, Chinese, Brazilian 
On the whole side 
And the Angolan people in the new life 
In Angola there is a lot to do 
For the foreigner well to live 
And the Angolan ones nor grass to see 
To eat 
The great family is of tracks 
He wanders in the direction of triturating 
Of the immense wealth, never full 
The most important is to make money 
It is feel never exhausted 
The rest - us - it is to abandon 
An infested country of safeties 
Of uniforms that hold the abundances 
Of Brazil the prostitution comes 
Of the business of the millions of dollars 
The general denies, he says that not 
Leaning for the palace and their pairs 
And that nobody is opposed except 
He will benefit of exemplary torments 
The slaughter of the daily life 
In this breed of people landowner 
They live in the hope of his arrival 
In Angola 2014 the year of the growth 
They went up the social indicators of the torpor 
The highways rehabilitated by the bribe 
The objectives of the poverty have to impose 
The Newspaper of Angola will announce virulent 
A strong business class will be born 
The Nation is strong but nothing will grow 
The sirens and the escorts of the local power 
And of the power of the economy of the cholera 
So much tomato to deteriorate, national 
Of the economical poverty that here lives 
They prefer to import it of Portugal 
Everything of Angola leaves 
I pay to weight of irrational gold  
In Angola it disproportionate 
The injustice there is a lot that it was ordained 
The fields are not cultivated 
The power already knows who bought him 
We only lived of imported products 
The epidemic of the corruption everything took 
In the intense smell to diesel oil eliminated  
In a hand the adulterated Constitution 
And in the other the sanguinary sword 


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