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Genius English Translations - Nu Drama El Gronxador English Translation Lyrics

[Chorus]
If they don’t have windows
You’ll never be able to see them
Nor will they see the sky
It’s a bit cruel
If they don’t have windows
You’ll never be able to see them
Nor will they see the sky
It’s a bit cruel

[Verse]
Trucks loaded with thirsty pigs
Which will turn into Big Macs or cat food
Have never known the sky, grass, or rain
Only a man hitting a sow
And rubbing salt or chili into her eyes
Because she had collapsed
In the excrement
Of her companions or herself
With ulcers on her body from rubbing
Against the cold bars
Her dying piglets in a bucket
Showing signs of what little life they have left
They’ll die among spits and insults
Not even the antibiotics in their feed could save them
Nor the hormones or soy from the Iguazú basins
Robbing space from the jungles of South America
They have lived surrounded by masses of pus
That’s why employees wear masks and overalls
They beat them into a CO2 chamber
That causes a horrible suffocating effect
The toxic gas burns their lungs inside
And they die with piercing screams and convulsions
[Chorus]
If they don’t have windows
You’ll never be able to see them
Nor will they see the sky
It’s a bit cruel
If they don’t have windows
You’ll never be able to see them
Nor will they see the sky
It’s a bit cruel

[Verse]
You’ve never killed nor would you
But you pay a poor man each day
With rubber boots and poorly tied apron
Likely a migrant
To do the nastiest job of all
Teenagers with hoses
Spraying the blood dripping from some duck
Or a lamb hanging from a hook like a swing
Accumulating on the slaughterhouse floor
That echoes with sounds of utter agony
From plunging chickens in water that electrocutes them alive
They slit calves’ throats with their eyes open
Tears falling for all they’ve endured
Those next in line watch their allies get killed
And understand it’s imminent
13 months seemed a bit soon
They recall activists who caressed them
And gave them a sip of water at a traffic light
Outspoken people with signs and megaphones
They remember that tiny gesture of compassion
Just before their muscles convulse
And they fall looking at the sky, as if seeing a deity
They lift them by the hoof and split them in half
That dismembered, inert creature
Will be on the polystyrene tray on sale