Gringos Son Puercos Feosthe Rain Lyrics - Leftover Crack

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Stamping out the ancient cultures to spread a new disease,
Sailing on a dollar sign across the seven seas.
The banner is white, blue, and red,
The locust's flight to swarm the dead,
A buzzing plague to cage the lost,
The spreading web breeds holocaust.
The third world's in your sweaty hands,
You bleed 'em dry and rape their lands,
You loan 'em cash to kill their soils,
White bureaucrats divide the spoils.

Swirling red and blue lights flash upon the housing walls,
My back against the lockless doors of countless bathroom stalls.
Sifting through a puzzled life until the pieces click,
Wading through America - the hate, the lies, the sick.

(I'm) Spitting at the flag you wave,
(I'm) Pityin' the life, the life you gave.
The propaganda zombifies,
To stuff your head with hateful lies.
(And) Violence really keeps the peace
All across the middle east,
With diligence we scorch the soil
And siphon out their precious oil.

All these patriotic lies oft sicken me to wake,
How much xxxx and disrespect are we supposed to take?
While you chant amongst the bleachers, "U.S.A. is #1",
We'll cheer the empire crumbling down to rot beneath the sun.

We have to be the winning team,
Democracy's a dying dream.
And everything is classified
To keep our terror justified.
We have to keep the engines filled,
So what if foreign blood is spilled?
I'm blind to the reality,
If the media lies, it's news to me.

This is what you're proud of when you wave your little flag,
A sovereign nation brutalising a wetted paper bag.

And all the worlds a cage.
We're locked upon the stage.

(In a) Capitalist society,
We're threatened by autonomy.
Their labour must belong to us,
In cash, gain and Godly trust.
(It's) Just another policy,
(To) Cripple their economy,
Bury them in endless debt,
To the World-Bank and the I.M.F.
(So) I'm burning up the flag you wave,
I'm dancin' on your fuckin' grave.
You're sellin' devastating death,
You're suckin' souls and robbin' breath.
And your greed's a blasphemy,
You're profitin' from misery.
Where will all this madness end?
When the money burns and cities rend.

(The Rain:)
A golden sunset in darkest night,
It melts the skin and blinds the sight.
A fungal cloud of blackened ash,
The rain floods down to spark the rash.
Into your mind the sickness bores,
While underground, they lock the doors.
You glide into abysmal deep,
Escape, escape to sleep

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