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• Artiste: Misery Index
• Titre: Sleeping Giants
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Flushed from the fields on the Malian steppe Carved out from wombs that our fathers beset As giants we sleep, where hopelessness ends An UN statistics, we're counted and fed Children of war, hunger, and filth Dragged through the dust in our misery Where you won't be seen alive... In diamond mines, in textile looms, As cocaine mules, and prostitutes... we don't exist They take us young, borders be damned From Bangkok to Juarez, on Sahara sands Nameless and dead, on frontiers forlorn We hate, loath, and curse the day we were born On and on, we're taken More lives, forsaken Fuck you, you maggot, harvester of human traffic So few, aware So few, will care Pray on, here after, where no God will ever answer