Poema para musicar en un experimento musico/teatral a lo Hawkwind que tengo en mente (a ver cuando lo hago, que tengo ganas de que la gente del death metal me critique).

 

 

We are the sons of the machine,
we are the lost and never found,
victims of the greed.

We are the sons of the western world,
the laughs of the killing joke,
victims of the greed.

We are the sons of the decadence and the excess,
carrying Satan’s heritage on our backs,
victims of the greed.

Yes, we are the sons of the old Europe,
wearing the mark of the capital,
victims of the greed.

 

Acepto correcciones de gente del mundo de la filología, of course (aunque creo que no he metido ningún gambazo).