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Order By Border

This song is by Sinaloa and appears on the album Fathers And Sons (2003).

I know you want to think optimistically, but when there is nothing in the glass it's not half anything, its fucking empty
We try to build an order, only in some chosen borders
We try to build an order, we'll produce shells of mortar
We try to build an order, people go in rigid quarters
We try to build an order, a machine a people sorter
We try to build an order, a woman - nothing for her
We try to build an order, a black man working - nothing more
Where do we live, what borders are ours
How do we live, alone or under powers
Never could we stop, if shots were fired
Turning would be treason
I am not a liar
Just hope that I'm alive when I stop marching

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