Langue   

Carlo Giuliani

Lynched
Langue: anglais




As the dry soil crumbles away 'neath my toes
I'm tempted to think of that poor boy's bones
As they cracked and they snapped 'neath the weight of those wheels
That poor bleeding boy, how did he feel?
And those cretinous monsters who tore out his soul
Just let those wheels roll and roll
How does it feel to be shot and then crushed
To have your pure anger so viciously hushed?
I think it's the same as I feel every day
As those bastards try to take our freedom away...



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