V. So That You Will Hate Me

V. So That You Will Hate Me

No one sleeps tonight.
Our silence
is whispering sorrow among the old trees
as the empty rooms you left with your carnage.

Nothing but darkness left.
Burn ‘em to ashes, then burn the ashes.

And I drown my fears to the bottom.
My throat tastes like salt, blood and anger.
The sky is raining charcos, ríos, mares de dolor.

We see your real face through the wall. It has a name.
You, the beast on prime time and out of control.
They’re running away from your claws, from your shadow flying in circles.
Your greed sees everything, it wants everything.

We had to look everywhere. More empty rooms.
We figured out curses and spells, preludes and afterwords.

Now we invoke the damned to the feast,
for this is our time to eat, and yours to be eaten.

The vultures of rage still devour their livers as usual.
Sometimes hurricanes of nightmares still knock them over.
You can feel so much pain in their silent voices.

Shredded memories, violent repetitions of the finest human arts.
Torture is not a word anymore. I wish I had a word for it.
I’m on my own on this wave of anguish.

Our songs became stained with your hatred.
It fills every page, It fills everything.

We’ve got blind after the fire. Now it’s time to listen to them.
Burn ‘em to ashes, then burn the ashes.

IV. El taco está lleno de odio

IV. El taco está lleno de odio

Es el taco full of hate
in the heart of America.

It’s made of guts and deep fried execration,
a dish best served en caliente y directo en tu cara.

It goes with so much rage and beans topped
with shredded dreams, relieving spits with very sore cream.

Fat and greasy, like you, you eat it and it eats you,
american dream, taste of depravity.

Taco de odio, Cowboy Mouse, va con todo
to wash your ignorance away.

Taco de odio, with chopped raw reality,
you’d better watch out, our tortillas are soft.

El taco trae ya mucha salsa, mi amigou,
y un día de tanta se le va a romper.