| Everyone in our town walks around to test the air
|
| Even though that’s torment there
|
| They never love to take care
|
| A car’s crash in our town
|
| Sidewalks paved with character
|
| The populace that passed this way
|
| None of them turned to pray
|
| Even though there’s torment there
|
| They never love to take care
|
| A citizens they walk odd
|
| Their only aim is to get rich
|
| A typic omen’s not for us
|
| We can’t expect here sign of love
|
| The treeless limits of this town
|
| The walls a blanket of greyish dust
|
| No ordinary sight to see
|
| I feel la peste subconsciously
|
| Even though there’s torment there
|
| They never love to take care
|
| I am so bored with your ideals
|
| I take the air on the balcony
|
| Stroll along the boulevard
|
| Hear the voices by the sea
|
| Even know that’s omen there
|
| They never love to take care |