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Calm Like a Bomb (Live, Mexico City, Mexico, October 28, 1999)
par
Rage Against the Machine
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Letra
Feel the funk blast Feel the funk blast Feel the funk blast Feel the funk blast Feel the funk blast Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo I be walkin' God like a dog, my narrative, fearless Word war returns to burn like Baldwin home from Paris Steel from a furnace, I was born landless This is the native son, born of Zapata’s guns Through the shanties and the cities' remains Same bodies buried hungry but with different last names These vultures rob everything, leave nothing but chains Pick a point on the globe, the picture's the same A bank and a church, a myth and a hearse A mall and a loan, a child dead at birth A widow pig parrot, rebel to tame A white-hooded judge, a syringe and a vein And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard What you say, what you say, what you say, what? What you say, what you say, what you say, what? I’m calm like a bomb I'm calm like a bomb This ain't subliminal, feel the critical mass approach horizon The pulse of the condemned, sound off America's demise The anti-myth rhythm rock shocker, yes, I spit fire Hope lies in the smoldering rubble of empires Back through the shanties and the cities' remains Same bodies buried hungry, but with different last names Vultures robbin' everyone, leave nothing but chains Pick a point here at home, the picture's the same Field full of slaves, some corn and some debt A ditch full of bodies, check for the rent There's the tap, the phone, the silence of stone The numb black screen that be feelin’ like home And the riot be the rhyme of the unheard What you say, what you say, what you say, what? What you say, what you say, what you say, what? What you say, what you say, what you say, what? I’m calm like a bomb I'm calm like a bomb I’m calm like a bomb I'm calm like a bomb [Guitar solo] I'm calm like a bomb There's a mass without roofs, a prison to fill A country’s soul that reads post no bills A strike and a line of cops outside of the mill A right to obey and a right to kill A mass without roofs, a prison to fill A country's soul that reads post no bills A strike and a line of cops outside of the mill A right to obey and a right to kill
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