We don't choose, we don't originate, we don't have a skin color Like we dream of a castle life, when we film ghetto, we are born late Around the neck, like Cosette for Hugo Being betrayed, in conflict, and praying the high price Son of the CO, NGO, this NGO, M-I-C-R-O I have the weight of the words, to get out of the bottom, to rip this painting Made of weapons, tears, blood and blood In front of the sea, I should have grown up In front of the ground, I could have died I get up, I take my last breath All the same bullet and all disappointed I take my last breath It's the drought on a land where we keep sowing Sadness in eyes that can't cry I have a lot of distant dreams, I rebelled so much I drank a lot of Baratin, and it bore me too much In life, there is a step at the bottom, and a step next to it The step to a euro, or the step to tear it There is the state, the RMI, the state that made you If you're down, you have to crawl, you don't have to let go You didn't know that, you, the desire to pluck potatoes To be left, right, facing the sea, far from the galleys You didn't know that, to go out all the time and distribute potatoes Left, right, with a particular air Facing the sea, I should have grown up Facing the ground, I could have died I get up, I take my last breath All the same bullet and all disappointed I take my last breath Facing the sea, it's you who resists It's you who resists Facing the ground, your name is on the list Of all your being If you're to compare It's the story of this feather that is writhing in the powder This gray matter whose country has not made an acquisition We get up again, we go to the bottom, we aim for the Pantheon I give one to those who have it, who dream of consecration The dahl, the nyak, I have it like my long boots We want to touch the starry sky without lowering our pants Too few good fairies and too many cinders Calopasy 2004, action! Facing the sea, I should have grown up Facing the ground, I could have died I get up, I take my last breath All the same bullet and all disappointed I take my last breath All the same bullet and all disappointed I take my last breath We choose neither its origin nor its skin color Like we dream of a city, we wait for you to live, but we leave the stones Like we dream of a city, we wait for you to live, but we leave the stones Facing the sea, we all want to grow up Calopasy, too young to die Calopasy, too young to die