Fight (Rafael Dinnamarque) The World is feverish and the people are the disease, A disease that every day is killing the world I see in your black eyes, where the madness burns like a flame That kills now for pleasure For the people life became a sea of pain. I'm a prisioner in my home With fear running in my veins They are outside hoping that I make some mistake With a weapon in their hands With those in suit and tie hiding them They dominate the streets until when this will carry on Fight for the living or Fight for who's dying Fight for freedom Fight for the liars Fight for the feelings Fight for who's crying Fight for the living Fight or let die The sins running through the hands My tears rolling through the face Our feeling is not the same Our hearts don't have faith We don't have a face The ones who's good only exists in Fairytales The hell of Holy Bible is lying in your bed