There’s a rooster
That cries and shouts
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, careful
This will hurt, it will crush you, kill you, anger you
How unlucky you are so raw and cursed
She prays by day, at night, and doesn't eat lunch
She thinks she’s a bad mother, likewise a bad daughter
Where is the luck? Mine, not much
Someone gives it to her and then takes it back
And there isn’t much bread, bread, bread
There isn’t much bread, bread, bread
There isn’t much bread, bread, bread
There isn’t much bread, bread, bread
Some are big and others brave
Some will betray and others are strong
Wake up, Mercedes
Oh, my Patricia
Thomas, Martin, Juan, Lola, Pablo, and Christine
This big mistake isn’t yours or mine
Lies, smiles, and poppies
Speeches, magazines, bankers, gamers
Songs, hands, and guns
Purses, confetti, cross-wavers, and johns
They rob you and shout at you
They rob you and shout at you
They rob you and shout at you
They take from you what you don’t have
There isn’t much bread, bread, bread
There isn’t much bread, bread, bread
There isn’t much bread, bread, bread
There isn’t much bread
And it’s indecent, it’s indecent
People without homes, homes without people
It’s indecent
(A home without people)
No, there isn’t much bread
No no no no no