1. MEDICINE BLUES

- Nó, bicho, mas foi foda demais outro dia, cara, olha só… Tinham seis pacientes, não tinha ninguém no plantão…
- Ninguém!
- E o horário! E o horário!
- Ô, ô, ô…
- Shh! Shh! Shh!
- Ô, mermão!
- Quieto aí, cara!
- Porra é essa, véio? Qualé que é, bicho?
- Cê num tá vendo, não? O paciente tá dormindo aqui! Num vamo incomodar, não, cara! Nós tamo conversando baixinho…
- Quem que é esse cara?
- Eu sei lá quem que é!
- Alê, dá um tempo!
- Óia lá! Óia lá! Ele tá acordando!
- Ô, mermão! Se ele acordar é foda! Esse cara veio da guerra! É doidasso, cara!
- Ó, então, olha só… Vamo tocar um som prá fazer esse cara dormir de novo.
- É!
- Boa ideia! Eu achei legal isso aí!
- E, que tal um blues, hein?
- The Medicine Blues.
- Nó…

Yeah!
Oh, I'm not sure...
Hey, shush!!!
He is waking up!
He… He… He's a neurotic.
So, let's play a song to make him sleep again.
Oh, yeahhh! Good idea! What about a blues? What?
The “Medicine Blues”... will give him happiness, will give him love!
The Medicine Blues…
Take your medicine, and go to bed. Relax a little. I’ll see you...on the other… side!
Alright!


2. THE FIRST...

“Only the beings who feel the pain
Know the extreme pleasure
When the pain goes away.
And you will feel it tonight”

This is the story of a man,
59 years old
Quite well throughout his life
Contracted typhoid fever in 1936

After one month of illness
In the first period of convalescence
He became extremely nervous
With palpitations on the heart

He also lost 20 kilograms of weight
Physical examination showed
Muscular weakness and atrophy
And the pain is not going away!

His name was Walker, Mr. Walker

This man has suffered of a war neurosis too
His life was based on medicines
But, in the nights he got to stand straight
He pursued his sadism

His victims, always pretty virgins
Were found in drains, dead and naked.
During his neurotic sodomy
He found relief to his pain

One night, Pamela
Who was rich and a drug addict
Met Walker
In the moment when she tried to suicide

During the ravish
Mr. Walker had a heart attack
And died, leaving in Pamela
The pain of his sodomy

After pain,
Pamela began to love her life.
She wrote this story
After studying the maniac's life

Now she tells us
To love our moments of pain.
Because with them we begin to know
The real pleasure of living!

He was the first...
His name was Mr. Walker
And he won't be the last...
Pamela is alive forever!


3. MISERY'S GENOCIDE

Guerrillas fall down
From the mountains over cities
Their misery gives them power
To fight

The horror is alive
They are like a mutilated army
Deprived by the system
They believe in dying for their ideals

Death to the guilty
Coward warriors die
The world escapes from my feet
I don't have any hope

Peace is a forbidden word
On my gun I only see the light
Of a day without sunlight
With the sky covered by the radioactive dirt

Mosh!

Chorus:
Misery's Genocide
Fighting and killing
The fight is as dark as evil
The tormented scream their hate

The legions get smaller day by day
But the legions of doom are bigger.
The priests still try to save the church
Imploring for christians’ return

The damned system
Has already crucified all of us
Sending the miserable
To the exile

To eat shit, to drink sperm
And to pay for a crime not committed
A mutant generation is formed
Without brains or genital organs
Ready to kill or to be killed

Mosh!

[Chorus:]
Misery's Genocide
Fighting and killing
The fight is as dark as evil
The tormented scream their hate


4. WHO IS FAT?

Who is fat?

“The subjective factor in
Judging obesity in
An individual case
As well as a general
Definition of corpulence
Tend frequently to make
The diagnosis of obesity
A matter of dispute
Between the patient and
The physician...
In many cases of this kind
Obesity is not the idea that
Food is a
Danger to health but
Merely constitutes
A problem of aesthetics”

- Who is fat?
- I am fat! You are fat! We are fat!
- It’s good to be fat!


5. HARMONY OR VIOLENCE

(Instrumental)


6. WORDS OF DESOLATION

The future is near
And so is the end of the times
Those are the prophet's words
His wisdom describes the end of mankind

Bombers, storms, plagues and the enemy's wrath
The insult of predators will be large
Roman Pontiff, take care on the Vatican approximation
Your blood will run in this place

A fugitive will abandon the polish
False noises, help rumors

And then the chief will abandon himself
And the church will have twins in the command

Dead bodies in the water
Waiting to be buried
The world will be smaller
And all the masters will call for peace

By fire and pestilent air
The fruit of the trees will perish
The sacred priests won't be listened
People will live without laws and politics

The gods of the church will be prosecuted
And the divines will hate each other

The mother will be denuded by her own sons
With the mouth and the throat in purulent pustules.


7. DARTHERIUM

The ice starts to melt
Executing the ritual
The avalanches start too
And his roars are the warning
For the attack of three hundred years

His coming is the sign of terror
That makes everybody hide away
Except for the thirteen warriors
Whose destiny was known... was known!

Dartherium, Radioactive Attack Darther!!!

In the midnight sun his face was seen
Dartherium in glorious triumph
Tracing through tales, the silence of fear all feel

The Celtic warriors are no cowards
Grabbing ancient holy shields
And fighting against death

Victory was known
Dartherium speeds along the ice
Fed by the bravest blood
He went back victorious to the shelter

With him, years of struggle spilled out
With him, the hope spilled out
And the glory of the Celtic warriors, spilled out!!!


8. … AND THE LAST

In Long Beach, in a telephone booth, this message was found.
It was written by a twenty-year-old young woman.

And she was the last!!!
Yeah! She was the last!

“The king heroin is my pastor
I'll always have the need
He makes me lie in drains
Drives me besides muddy waters
Destroys my soul
Drives me by ways of malice
Of love of effort
Yes, I'll walk by the valley of poverty, yes!

And I'll fear all evil
Because you, heroin, is with me
Your needles and capsule try to comfort me
You empty my table of food
In the presence of my family
You steal my reasoning
My chalice of sorrow spills over
My vice will follow me
And I'll live in the house of abominables forever”

“This is my psalm
I'm 20 years old only
For an year and a half I have lived in the vice nightmare.
I'm just unbelieved.
The doctor said that it would’ve been better for me if I’d shot my own head
Than to have tried the drug for the first time.
Now my god, that’s all I want!!!”

Oh, and she was the last!
Yeah! She was the last!
She was the last...