Eu estou postando esse vídeo como símbolo de um sentimento que eu não consigo expressar em palavras. Como um fogo que arde no meu peito, muitas vezes, sem ter um motivo fácil de se exemplificar. Talvez seja o fogo da juventude, a revolta, da raiva, da revolução, da vontade de ver algo mudar de verdade e fazer parte dessa mudança.
Viva o Punk Rock, viva o underground, viva eu, viva você, viva a liberdade, viva a revolução, viva o Roquenrow.
Solo, I'm a soloist on a solo list
Al live, never on a floppy disk
Inka, inka, bottle of ink
Paintings of rebellion
Drawn up by the thoughts I think
Yeah!
Come on!
The militant poet in once again, check it
It's set up like a deck of cards
They're sending us to early graves
For all the diamonds
They'll use a pair of clubs to beat the spades
With poetry I paint the pictures that hit
More like the murals that fit
Don't turn away
Get in front of it
Brotha, did ya forget ya name?
Did ya lose it on the wall
Playin' tic-tac-toe?
Yo, check the diagonal
Three brothers gone
Come on
Doesn't that make it three in a row?
Anger is a gift
Brotha, did ya forget ya name?
Did ya lose it on the wall
Playin' tic-tac-toe?
Yo, check the diagonal
Three million gone
Come on
Cause they're counting backwards to zero
Environment
The environment exceeding on the level
Of our unconciousness
For example
What does the billboard say
Come and play, come and play
Forget about the movement
Anger is a gift
Freedom, Freedom, yeah right
FREEDOM!
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