Five in the morning, there in Tijuana
A shot is heard from the window
Maria looks up to the sky, she is already used
Is the soundtrack of every morning
A couple living in New York
Works full-time, another quota, another computer
Their time its resumed, time they don't consume
The soundtrack: the sound of their clock.
Midnight in Southern Europe
Let's say Madrid
The word "crisis" will baptize the morning
It's the soundtrack of repeating.
[Chorus]
(Hey!)
If we are sons, sons of the same God
Why is always the same people the one that have to fall, why? Hey, tell me
If we are sons, sons of the same God
Why do eyes get all glazed over?
Why do eyes get used to all this pain?
(Let´s go!)
Yes, we are, oh ohh oh ohhh
Yes, we are, oh ohh oh ohhh
Yes, we are, oh ohh oh ohhh
Yes, we are, oh ohh
Ohhhh
São Paulo, seven in the evening
Pots instead of drums floods the street
João keeps doing his thing, his job
Outside, the soundtrack of his pain.
Luis, with the world, leads a very social life
On the Internet, he has a million friends
He says: it can't go wrong
But, it has been a month
Since someone went to his house
The soundtrack: solitaire community
A man walking the streets of Dakar
Asks if is possible to orchestrate a disease
Who will bring the vaccine?
Currency and cash of a fortune
A soundtrack that is soon to forget.
[Chorus]
(Hey!)
If we are sons, sons of the same God
Why is always the same people the one that have to fall, why? Hey, tell me
If we are sons, sons of the same God
Why do eyes get all glazed over?
Why do eyes get used to all this pain?
(Let´s go!)
Yes, we are, oh ohh oh ohhh
Yes, we are, oh ohh oh ohhh
Yes, we are, oh ohh oh ohhh
Yes, we are, oh ohh
Ohhhh
And they are asking us to convive, without loosing our minds
Give our hands with ease to the rates of interest
Accept their economy like a pet animal
Running, strings attached, over their world of paper.
(Listen to it!)
Yes, we are, oh ohh oh ohhh
Yes, we are, oh ohh oh ohhh
Yes, we are, oh ohh oh ohhh
Yes, we are, oh ohh
Ohhhh