Hungry, angry

Hungry, angry, desperate,
Take to the streets in the cold
their cities,
Dissatisfied with the ongoing
By the power of politics,
Surrendered to the media,
Saying it's better to die
Than evil to look at the feeding hand,
And they themselves are looking for scandals,
When the strong take from the small
And the little ones cry out in despair,
Bringing death upon himself.
People in the square
Generally speaking, right
They don't know what to eat tomorrow
They don't know how to feed their children
Obediently stand and wait for the National Guard,
And the cunts they promised
Journalists, bloggers, skeptics,
sofa critics,
Wish them defeat
In the prisons of decay
As a result of these developmental events,
There are paddy wagons, greedily slamming the door,
To the sound of handcuffs
And the blows of rubber bullets,
They think it comes out
From the opposition all their nonsense
The wind of change comes out of my head,
The steam of dissent
Through mouth and nostrils
To go faster
Color them up
In the color of proletarian blood.
Knock out the resistance
From torn flesh
The night is coming
Not a soul in the square
Dead body lies in the middle
Victimized
Against violence and lies
For justice with love
Paid with sweat and blood
For the freedom of their children.