1. |
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4 feet under and the shovel hit a bone
Yanked it free of the grave inhumanely
His spine and lower back hacked from the body
and buried on top of all other remains.
Keep on digging, and his bloated body appeared,
pale and caked with dirt, duct tape on eyes and mouth
“was it part of the ceremony?”
“no, it was just so that he would fit”
“Others buried here?
How many more bodies?”
“No se… No se ”
Buried for over a month,
Only his teeth to identify the body
Buried face down, simply tossed in
Duct tape on his eyes and mouth
Duct tape on eyes and mouth
Unsoiled amid the terrible scene
Strange utilitarian tape
(All the) more horrible because so ordinary
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2. |
My Deadly Obsession
02:29
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A failure / a deadly obsession / a desire of love
I remember you like something different
Something special, a light in my darkness
I am afraid of forgetting that you gave me hope
I am afraid of not forgiving what time will erase
And what the wind will take
What the wind will take
And it hurts to imagine that if i forget what hurts
You won’t be here anymore
You will be a mistake
A failure / a deadly obsession / a desire of love
And it hurts to imagine that if i forget what hurts
You won’t be here anymore
You will be a mistake
A failure / a deadly obsession / a desire of love
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3. |
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Would the gods be pleased?
Well I don’t think so...
A sacrifice made as ancient laws required
cigar smoke and rum to summon the seven powers
a headless turtle, the head of a goat, and blood from a rooster.
And of course a human life, a man raped, battered and sliced
The satisfaction I should have felt is not quite there yet.
Look at this offering / duct tape on his eyes / a man who should have screamed has not screamed
A soul taken in violence and terror could be captured and used
Essence of my witchcraft, dark heart of Palo Mayombe
Then I said to my crowd of devout
“Next time bring me a Yankee
Bring me someone blonde and soft
Bring me someone I can use
Bring me someone who will scream!”
Bring me someone
Blonde and soft
Bring me someone
Who will scream!
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4. |
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How had he made them all giggle and obey
My soul is dead / I have no god
How had he turned simple drug smugglers into men - cold, without feeling, without soul
My soul is dead / I have no god
It was our religion, it was our voodoo
We did it for success, protection, power and knew our souls were already dead
We kidnapped Mark from the streets of Matamoros
luring the drunken youth into a pick up truck with the promise of a ride across the bridge.
When el padrino arrived, he was stripped and dragged inside, beat, tortured, sodomized, mutilated, murdered with a machete blow that laid open his skull
Then el padrino scooped out his brain and placed it inside the terrible Nganga
My soul is dead
My soul is dead / I have no god
This is our religion, this is our voodoo
How had he made them all say
“My soul is dead / I have no god”
This is our religion, this is our voodoo
This is our religion, this is our voodoo
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