Poverty, is in our minds
Blind of heart, with a consumed spirit
A dead child in the street, but any cry
All of the mirrors reflect a dark image

It was given to Cézar what belong to him, but where is the part of God?
The hope is not welcome
I have nothing else inside my rotten meat!

I tried new ways
And I am here again
When I scream, there’re no concrete answers
I extend the hand, and there’s nothing to find.

Somebody
Bring me peace one minute at least
I need forces to carry on

For all these years I searched
A reason for life
A reason to forget
A simple reason to die.