“I remember that justice was painted with blood.
A group of persons faking that all is good.
Burn it out, let it burn the evil from our souls.
We can’t die before the light comes down.
We build a massacre of hopes…
We drink the poison of darkness,
Always to drink some more, always for the ecstasy of gold.
We are in the metropolis of wilderness.
Where is the thing that they call justice now?
Is it a mirror of all what we say in our roaming?
Give me reasons, give me the solution.
Where are you justice?
The acid rain decays a beautiful hidden garden.
We live for a piece of placebo called democracy.
We live in the lie called freedom,
Is the same drama of politics.
We are the injured justice.
We are the freedom and the progression of a new world.
From youth to old days, we need to avoid this wall.
Let the clean rain flows to the garden of justice.
And make the roses grow to become the floor of a lovely world,
Where children can fly and smile…
Where there’s no color or warning.
Where we all are heroes of a beautiful time.
Kill the countries, let birth a one voice.
The voice of humankind, the voice of a brotherhood.
No more survive, no more cries.
I will die for a new dawn of a living for love.”
-Miércoles, 29/06/11. Escrito por Alejandro Viloria.