With the cold hands of executioners
Execute
Executive decisions
Determined to destroy
What 1 million women, children, and men
1910
Died, drowning in the rage of battle.
Mothers, half naked
Infants clutching thier necks
Running frantically
Tripping over the bodies of their sons
Teeth gnashing
Swinging machete
Spitting blood and mud, and screaming:
Land, and liberty!
Were erased.
Buried and burned
Along with the memory of the dead
Along with the ejido.
With the smooth stroke of a pen
And with the ghost of nixon present in their eyes
They smiled.
And pronounced the omnipitence
Of the free market
The profits of profit
Extending the scurge of columbus and pizarro
The freedom to buy things you can never afford
The freedom for indians to buy corn that once flourished overgrown in their backyards
The freedom to die of curable disease
The freedom to watch their children's stomachs swell and burst
The freedom to starve and die
Without land
Or liberty
But ramona, with eyes of obsidian
Peering through her blood and sweat drenched mask
Darding, unseen
Changing direction with the swiftness of a bird
Through the shanty's of the canyon
With every coyote, every insect, every phylum of life
Urging her, propelling her forward.
The leaves and branches of the forest
Part for miles, clearing her path
The voices and screams of the dead beneathe her feet
Echo in the deepest chasm of her soul
Hurling her, toward the city
History surging through her veins
Pulsing through her fingers
Hurling her, towards the city
She caresses her trigger
And the words of magome fulfil her being
And with each shot she fires, she affirms her movement
Saying:
Enough! Enough!
No!
I will see my own blood flow
Before you take my land... Or my liberty
Wealthy vampires With the cold hands of executioners Execute Executive decisions Determined to destroy What 1 million women, children, and men 1910 Died, drowning in the rage of battle. Mothers, half naked Infants clutching thier necks Running frantically Tripping over the bodies of their sons Teeth gnashing Swinging machete Spitting blood and mud, and screaming: Land, and liberty! Were erased. Buried and burned Along with the memory of the dead Along with the ejido. With the smooth stroke of a pen And with the ghost of nixon present in their eyes They smiled. And pronounced the omnipitence Of the free market The profits of profit Extending the scurge of columbus and pizarro The freedom to buy things you can never afford The freedom for indians to buy corn that once flourished overgrown in their backyards The freedom to die of curable disease The freedom to watch their children's stomachs swell and burst The freedom to starve and die Without land Or liberty But ramona, with eyes of obsidian Peering through her blood and sweat drenched mask Darding, unseen Changing direction with the swiftness of a bird Through the shanty's of the canyon With every coyote, every insect, every phylum of life Urging her, propelling her forward. The leaves and branches of the forest Part for miles, clearing her path The voices and screams of the dead beneathe her feet Echo in the deepest chasm of her soul Hurling her, toward the city History surging through her veins Pulsing through her fingers Hurling her, towards the city She caresses her trigger And the words of magome fulfil her being And with each shot she fires, she affirms her movement Saying: Enough! Enough! No! I will see my own blood flow Before you take my land... Or my liberty Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/r/rage_against_the_machine/memory_of_the_dead.html
