Clouds cover the skies,
Rain pulls at your eyes
But nothing hurts as much
As little words turned lies.
Walking on the boulevard of broken dreams,
Past a non-functional social structure .
We work every day to build it again,
With our blood till our believes ruptures.
Open potholes and covered ghettos,
The privileged working in leisure—
Hard manual labor left for the mulattos,
Sewage flowing throu...