There is an act of violence
In the cold dawn
That does not escape the conscience
Of those who hit without reason
Sticks fly through the sky
And good people on the ground
Who are terrified by fear
They are losing their heart
The same story again
And in the pages of a newspaper
They appear very happy
Those who did not let it be
With sorrow in their heads
And with some broken bones
Walking slowly
Today I do not face dawn
There are sticks that will burst your mouth
There are sticks that always say no
There are sticks that if they look for you they will hole you up
And in this life they do not ask for forgiveness