See what did me and they didn't keep
The sounds that now hear from the nude feet and extended hands
My name is for sale that lost feeling
As a small window, that not even that already have
And my name was the future… after the year 2000
My future, my clock stopped, no longer it is used
in the programs turned without computer
Nor I began, I stopped, awaiting the hour,
delay to speak
I lost the escalade of the veil that leads me to the sky
We are together, so close and however so distant
As orphan children's tears
As everything that is beautiful and always ephemeral
To govern is easy, ask the vultures
When two men don't understand each other, the money is wrong
I have to hurry, I will turn over the garbage of the hope
Without her, of finding what remains of my name
I sit down, I feel tired
Everything that be built, destroyed will be
in the cynicism of the African hypocrisy
where daily everything becomes worse
He falls to the pieces, without earthquakes
The human volcanoes burn Africans
Everything is recorded, it falls day after other day
Without schools, without appropriate teaching
My brain is atrophied
It is for that that they say is "the late Continent"
The human History is the history of the daggers
If the soccer fields cultivated earth
we would have abundance of food
Followers of the soccer, modern slavery
I don't get to affirm me awaiting the prophet
The tears jump in my face when I think
The animals are anxious while God extends their hands
To a seating love in the margin of the a thousand rivers
I saw the mother give his baby to flee of the hunger
The sea trying to jump over mountains flooding inhuman
returning to the beginnings
The lost human beings in the concrete jungle
Chained, happy caught in the traps in the bestiality
forever eternal
The baby forever abandoned smiling
for the hostile world
I saw many us forever compliant, accomplices in the misfortune
I saw the silences of each instant in our glance of every day
As wild dogs in the uncertain escape for a place
I tried to fall asleep in the discouragement tomorrow of the mammy
To confirm the adventure, to continue in the misfortune
in this Angolan bread always orphan
Image: http://www.skyscrapercity.com/showthread.php?t=471629&page=4
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