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