Kinto Sol — F.U.S.I.L. song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "F.U.S.I.L." by Kinto Sol.
Lyrics
Todos me preguntan, que porque soy guerillero
Aqui yo fui empujado, y aqui es donde yo me muero
Primero que nada mi nombre es Joaquin
Se que fue dificil gracias por venir
Nervioso el periodista comenzo a escribir
Martin el guerillero empuñaba su fusil
Es dificil vivir en las montañas
No poder ver a tu gente y todos los que extrañas
En mis entañas todavia escucho a mi hijo
Las pocas palabras que en su muerte pronuncio
Papa no dejes que asi muera otro niño
Haz lo que puedas es lo unico que pido
El periodista me invito un cigarillo
Le mostre la foto que traia en mi bolsillo
Si hubiera sido rico los doctores lo salvan
Pero eramos pobres y no lo atendian
necesita seguranza es lo que decian
y a fuera de la clinica mi hijo asi moria
Todos me preguntan, que porque soy guerillero
Aqui yo fui empujado, y aqui es donde yo me muero
Joaquin el periodista sus pesames le dio
La historia de Martin de verdad lo conmovio
Le prometio hacer lo que pudiera
Su mensajes llegarian mas alla de la sierra
El gobierno es chueco no es ningun secreto
Nos tienen atrapados como ratas en un hueco
Sin opciones sin futuro sin salida
Desde que nacemos la tenemos perdida
Prefiero estar aqui arriesgando la vida
A estar sin alimento cuando mi hijo me lo pida
Algun dia volvere con mi padre
Que descanse en paz igual que mi madre
El gobierno me busca y quiere matarme
El pueblo esta conmigo trabajo va a costarles
Hay que enfrentarles si en verdad se cree la causa
Sino mi hermano mueres en la casa
Todos me preguntan, que porque soy guerillero
Aqui yo fui empujado, y aqui es donde yo me muero
Ho ho ho hooooo .ho ho hooooooo x2
Pasaron los meses la nota no salio
A pesar de que Joaquin a Martin le prometio
La guerilla se sintio traicionada
Era de esparanza y a esto estaba acostumbrada
Siguieron los ataques del gobierno
Aumentaban las muertes los niños enfermos
Que verguenza que esto existe en el mundo moderno
Martin el guerillero escribio en su cuaderno
Se acordaba de su hijo enfermo
Solo peleando se cambia este infierno
Heroes eternos que morieron por injusticia
Dame la fuerza para acabar esta injusticia
Agarro el fusil era el mes de abril
Grito a la guerilla «es hora de partir «Prefiero morir que vivir de rodillas
Lyrics translation
Everyone asks me, that because I'm a guerrilla
Here I was pushed, and here is where I die
First of all my name is Joaquin
I know it was hard. thank you for coming.
Nervous the journalist began to write
Martin the guerrilla wielded his rifle
It's hard to live in the mountains
Not being able to see your people and everyone you miss
In my bowels I still hear my son
The few words he uttered in his death
Dad don't let another child die like this
Do what you can is all I ask
The journalist bought me a cigarette.
I showed him the picture I had in my pocket.
If he had been rich, the doctors would save him.
But we were poor and they didn't care
you need security, that's what they say.
and out of the clinic my son dies
Everyone asks me, that because I'm a guerrilla
Here I was pushed, and here is where I die
Joaquin the journalist his pesames gave him
Martin's story really moved him.
I promised to do what I could
His messages would reach beyond the mountain range
The government is chueco it's no secret
They've got us trapped like rats in a hole
No options no future no way out
Ever since we were born, we've lost her.
I'd rather be here risking my life
To be without food when my son asks me to
Someday I'll be back with my father
May he rest in peace like my mother
The government is looking for me and wants to kill me
The village is with me work is going to cost them
You have to face them if you really believe the cause
Otherwise my brother dies in the House
Everyone asks me, that because I'm a guerrilla
Here I was pushed, and here is where I die
Ho ho ho hooooo .ho ho ho hooooooo x2
Months passed the note did not come out
Even though Joaquin promised Martin
The guerrillas felt betrayed
I was a Spar, and I was used to this.
Government attacks followed
The deaths of sick children increased
What a shame that this exists in the modern world
Martin the guerrilla wrote in his notebook
He remembered his sick son
Only fighting changes this hell
Eternal Heroes who died of injustice
Give me the strength to end this injustice
Grab the rifle was the month of April
I cry to the guerrillas "it's time to leave" I'd rather die than live on my knees