Ficciones

Los señores de la tierra
alimentan a sus fieras
que luego nos van a mandar
Y sus mesas van repletas
de bandejas con promesas
que seguro nos van a engañar

Nos van a engañar!!

Se reparten bien las reglas
de su juego de la guerra
depende del lado que esten
y si fallan en sus metas
pues se quitan las caretas
es que ellos no pueden perder

De repente es un cuento?
o perdimos la razón?
No es posible! Es un invento!
Pero nena no es ficción
no es ficción

Su sistema es eficiente
y no te pasa por la mente
lo que hacen con tu realidad
tu consumes, te diviertes
te acostumbras, te perviertes
no sabes cuál es la verdad

De repente es un cuento?
o perdimos la razón?
No es posible! Es un invento!
Pero nena no es ficción
no, no es ficción

Música: Ego Aguirre-Mora
Letra: Jorge Mora

Open Letter (to A Landlord)

(V. Reid, Addition lyrics by T. Morris)

Now you can tear a building down
But you can't erase a memory
These houses may look all run down
But they have a value you can't see...

This is my neighborhood
This is where I come from
I call this place my home
You call this place a slum
You wanna run all the people out
This what you're all about
Treat poor people just like trash
Turn around and make big cash

CHORUS: Now you can tear a building down
But you can't erase a memory
These houses may look all run down
But they have a value you can't see

Last month there was a fire
I saw seven children die
You sent flowers to their family
But your sympathy's a lie
Cause every building that you burn
Is more blood money that you earn
We are forced to relocate
From the pain that you create

CHORUS

We lived here for so many years
Now this house is full of fear
For a profit you will take control
Where will all the older people go?
There used to be when kids could play
Without the scourge of drug's decay
Now our kids are living dead
They crack and blow their lives away

CHORUS

You've got to fight
You've got a right
To fight for your neighborhood!