Tic - Tac - Kaotiko

Bang-bang, se acaban mis sueños

Quizás no tenga otro de ellos

Dos misiles me han despertado…

Se oyen gritos de gente que muere

Huele el humo de cuerpos que arden

Y unos tanques giran en la calle

Apuntando a quienes no se callen

Tic-tac, preparo mis libros

Un dos, el mismo camino

Minas que no puedo pisar

Pin-pan, silbido de balas

Que recorren las aulas

Miro alrededor

Y hay que escapar…

Se oyen gritos de gente que muere

Huele el humo de cuerpos que arden

Y un ejército que va avanzando

Oro negro es lo que están buscando

Cambian la piel

Por gotas de petróleo

No hay para comer

Y ellos engordan

Bang-bang, se imponen culturas

Bang-bang, sus balas apuntan

Y una de mil me sigue a mí

Ya se que no es el recreo

Tampoco tengo tiempo

Para ser feliz

Voy a morir…

Se oyen gritos de gente que muere

Huele el humo de cuerpos que arden

Y unos tanques giran en la calle

Apuntando a quienes no se callen

Cambian la piel

Por gotas de petróleo

No hay para comer

Y ellos engordan

Se oyen gritos de gente que muere

Huele el humo de cuerpos que arden

Y en despachos cuatro hijos de puta

Que no luchan y que lo disfrutan

Bang-bang, my dreams are over

Maybe I don't have another one

Two missiles have woken me up...

Screams are heard of people dying

Smell the smoke from burning bodies

And some tanks turn in the street

Aiming at those who don't shut up

Tick-tock, I prepare my books

One two, the same way

Mines I can't step on

Pin-pan, ping

who run through the classrooms

I look around

And you have to escape...

Screams are heard of people dying

Smell the smoke from burning bodies

And an army that is advancing

Black gold is what they are looking for

They change the skin

by drops of oil

there is nothing to eat

and they get fat

Bang-bang, cultures are imposed

Bang-bang, their bullets are aimed

And one in a thousand follows me

I know it's not recess

I don't have time either

To be happy

I'm going to die…

Screams are heard of people dying

Smell the smoke from burning bodies

And some tanks turn in the street

Aiming at those who don't shut up

They change the skin

by drops of oil

there is nothing to eat

and they get fat

Screams are heard of people dying

Smell the smoke from burning bodies

And in offices four sons of bitches

They don't fight and they enjoy it