We shall overcome
If you though this future, why I should stop
Some days, the stones fall as sharp daggers
The streets are silents, sadness turn off hymns
Our silhouettes don't find some famished light
Wagin flags that disturb sleepy workers
the kisses are looking for youngs in cribs
Building wonders for chaining wearknesses
Old people wake up between ragged sheets
No more lies that annoy like flies
No more past that suck our Itacas
We built our boats with small timbers
Torn flags
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