Lyrics of 'Com As Próprias Pernas' by Days of Sunday
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Nunca existiu nada mais assassino
Do que as mãos do catolicismo branco.
A chacina começou com os
Índios e continua até hoje com
Racismo, sexismo, especismo.
Quando criança tudo é injetado goela abaixo.
Forte são aqueles que
Conseguem ejetar tudo pra fora.
Minhas vontades meus desejos não
Vão ser paradas pelas mãos de uma
Farsa sobrenatural.
Por muito tempo
Acreditei, mas hoje eu vou ser o
Traidor desleal que vai te esfaquear pelas costas.
Nada mais vai me dominar, caminho com minhas
Próprias pernas.
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