We fly over the cities
Abandoned freeways
Lost diagonals
And randomly lines
Women without face
At the landing
Let’s be offhand
Be like nothing
For the Mexican complaint
This dream of America
We celebrate the dream (not sure about aluna meaning)
Of always, right now
And wankers drag
On the street
And they send it to the stars
Lost
Still how much to wait
The bottom of the continent
The gold of the new world
Disposable pyramids
Impeccable/perfect business men
When the rain of wisdom
Rots on the pavements
Our mother the earth
Astonish me
Este sueno de america
De siempre, ahorita
Hang the ghosts
Courteous
And to rot in the shade
Courteous
From America sold
To the lights raw
For new beams
For new sun
For new rays
Well received
All the messages
They say what they understand
That there isn’t a choice no more
That the spirit which blows
Will guide their steps
That the last times arrive or
We can speak
Then lets be off-hand
Soyons désinvoltes
Soyons désinvoltes
Soyons désinvoltes