Lyrics of 'O Gosto do Sangue' by Massacre Em Alphaville

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Eis o fim da revolução
Somos índios pelados dançando na chuva
que apaga os últimos vestígios de fumaça

O gosto do sangue simboliza a vitória
De quem pode sorrir ao ver as pedras
que encobrem as flores

O cisne olha indiferente a reunião dos abutres
Em volta do corpo inerte
(de quem não mais lhe servirá migalhas)

Eis o início da revolução...

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