There've been men who wrote pages
Notes from a life of priceless value
Irreplaceable because they exposed
The most corrupt of systems, too often ignored
Men or angels sent to Earth
To fight a war of feuds and of families
Scattered like marbles on an island of blood
That among many wonders, among lemons and seashells
Slaughters sons and daughters of a generation
Forced not to look, to speak in a low voice
To turn off the light, to comment in peace
Each bullet in the air, each corpse in a ditch
There've been men who step after step
Left a mark with courage and commitment
With dedication against an organized institution
Our thing, your thing, what's yours?
It's ours, the freedom to say
That eyes are made to look
The mouth to speak, the ears listen
Not just music, not just music
The head turns and adjusts the aim, reasons
Sometimes condemns, sometimes forgives
Before you speak and judge, try to think
Stay a moment, just a moment more
With your head in your hands
There've been men who died young
But aware that their ideas would last for centuries
Like hyperbolic words, intact and real like little miracles
Ideas of equality, ideas of education
Against any man who exercises oppression
Against his fellow man, against whoever's weaker
Against whoever buries conscience in concrete
Before you speak and judge, try to think
Stay a moment, just a moment more
With your head in your hands
There've been men who kept going
Even though everything around was burned
Because deep down this life has no meaning
If you're scared of a bomb or a pointed gun
Men pass and a song passes
But nobody will ever stop the conviction
Before you speak and judge, try to think
Stay a moment, just a moment more
With your head in your hands
Stay a moment, just a moment more
With your head in your hands