ENGLISH Reflections of red and blue in our neighborhoods State prepares our nooses Cops evacuate our squares, our spaces and our high schools But they will be haunted by our screams Children of crisis, with leg pain and depression With evictions, summonses and dismissals Brokes with consciences that spit on give ups and poisons The first drops of the storm I went to steal alcohol And I wandered all night long until I felt dizzy Arson according to expert reports Their bars and prisons will burn to ashes We hate orders, courts and their rules, Their models and stories Even when nothing remains under the tear gas We will never be silent even with blood in our mouths We are all illegals and delinquents Trying to catch their breath from the crevices That’s why the resistance against the murderers is flourishing That’s why we still resist against the DELTA forces Struggles are my friend’s homeland They draw their future with ashes from Moria Damascus – Aegean – Hotspot – Athens – Central Square of Victoria We carry stories and thorns in our feet In the midst of cities, in our cement forests I see souls going astray and gazes drifting in silence Students courting their drug dealer While twelve year old kids worry about their crying mother I saw management make their choices, employees lose their jobs The CEO receives a bonus, workers end up homeless I saw fathers break down, spin out of control I saw them try to stifle our cries I saw what one shouldn’t see when you linger late at night I dodged pitfalls, heroin and crack in the halls I saw lost souls, junkies, changed friends stuck on ketamine We hated the blue color of the sea and the green color of cedar From their uniforms and the cop cars of the centre They follow us, they listen to our cell phones They are asking for our papers , they are afraid of our smiles We hated the blue color of the sea and the green color of cedar From their uniforms and the cop cars of the centre They follow us, they listen to our cell phones But they do not catch a word of what our tears say

FRENCH Ils appellent au calme et c’est l’retour de flamme On ulcère les notables d’après la presse locale Voiture brise lame de ceux qu’on condamne Qui attendent le signal pour le braquage vocal A tous les rêves qui grandissent dans la glaise Le piquet de grève qu’on brandit comme un glaive Chante sous la grêle, souffle sur la braise Parce qu’ici on crève et que leur monde nous baise Le soleil est froid, les nuages sont bas Dans le squat, l’hivers sous la table Magie libertaire on tient les murs du bat’ Zippo, kerdane, des chaînes, des cadenas Des braseros chargés, toujours monter la garde Pas d’état d’âme, toujours vandale, c’est la trame Ce monde est fade, fous le en flamme, violent ramdam Crame ta cage, embrasse la crasse, trace Devant dans la charge avec tes sœurs et tous tes frères d’arme Descente raide à Vevey Face aux assassins en costumes brillants De la boue sur nos mains Du sang sur les leurs Du noir sur le drapeau, brasero La tête dans leur étau, brasero Feu, palettes & tréteaux, brasero Brasero, brasero Essence sur chiffons c’est l’odeur du frisson Le gaz dans les siphons pour sortir de prison Hurler l’oraison de la fin des saisons Des lever d’horizons à en perdre la raison Les prochaines véraisons, les nouvelles floraisons Pour chaque comparaison, les lignes de flottaison Plus de place aux questions, tu fais face aux caissons Plus de place aux questions, tu fais face aux caissons Prendre le maquis comme des camisards affranchis Repenser l’histoire, le temps maudit des colonies Bloquer les dépôts, couper les réseaux du pays Tonifier l’esprit, gratifier l’école de la vie Démonter les murs, les barbelés de l’autarcie Stimuler les circuits courts, saborder l’industrie Déserter les instituts, flatter la piraterie Supprimer les taxes sur les farfalles & la 8.6 Du noir sur le drapeau, brasero La tête dans leur étau, brasero Feu, palettes & tréteaux, brasero Brasero, brasero ENGLISH They’re calling for calm here’s the backfiring The local press says we’re driving the bigwigs mad We are the wave on the elite’s breakwater Waiting for the signal of the vocal heist To all dreams which grew in clay The picket line we shall use as a sword Sing under the hail, blow on the embers Because we’re dying here and their world is screwing us The sun is cold, the clouds are low In the squat, it’s winter under the table Self-made magic, we hold the walls of the building Zippo, kerdane, chains, padlocks Loaded bonfires, tonight on guard No qualms, still vandal, that’s the spirit This world is bland, set it on fire, violent mess Burn your cage, kiss the dirt, move forward To the frontlines with your sisters and brothers in arms Steep slope in Vevey In front of murderers with shiny suits Mud on our hands Blood on their clean fingers Black colour on the flag, bonfire Head in their vise, bonfire Fire, pallets and trestles, bonfire Bonfire, bonfire Gasoline on rags, it’s the smell of thrills Gas in siphons to get out of jail Howling the eulogy of the end of seasons New sunrises to lose your mind to The next harvest, the new blooms Find balance on the waterline No more questions, just face the sound system No more questions, just face the sound system Take to the hills like free spirits Rethinking history, the cursed times of the colonies Blocking deposits, cutting the country’s networks Vivify the mind, gratify the school of life Tear down the walls, the barbed wire of self-sufficiency Stimulate local channels, scuttle the industry Flee the institutes, flatter the buccaneers Cut taxes on pasta and beer Black colour on the flag, bonfire Head in their vise, bonfire Fire, pallets and trestles, bonfire Bonfire, bonfire

ENGLISH Fire to the rabid assassins of the state Fire to the riot police’s helmets, it’s a party This is how the streets should respond No tolerance for Nazis in uniform Who always abuse those who are different Beat up women refugees who fought for days on the water The same cops who have the audacity to invade squats Before they accuse us for the cocktails, throw them the evidence Amid the processions in the scorching night The cobblestones and cocktails are like shooting stars We will dance under their whistling bullets To the rhythm of their howling sirens To our brothers and sisters, to our dreams and fears To the sap, to our hearts, to the strike, to resentment To our walls, to our marker pens, to a rowdy future To our laughter, to our tears, to ravishing smiles To test them, to challenge them, radical mindset In the burning streets, war cries on the barricade Freedom and life, blood mixed with tears Under our balaclavas our eyes are full of rage We are the 500 euros generation Now immigrants abroad The generation of Alexis, Pavlos and Zackie This is why our resistance is a necessity We are fed up with Beous and Bogdanous in the media The epidemic excuses police operations to “clean up” the immigrants Sneaky attacks against houses of struggle Against any people counteraction They know our counterattacks well We never lower our heads from Athens to Toulouse, we see eye-to-eye 1312, we’ll meet at the barricade I’ve been quirky since I was 10 Many say that I neglect myself I am just like you, all their interests depress me They’re about navels on the beach, careers, trendy fads Smash into the crowd, adapt or go into exile Many complain but few come to the barricade They plead for the vote, then are betrayed but do not protest High up, the message is received They know that memories get erased when TV screens are turned off To test them, to challenge them, radical mindset In the burning streets, war cries on the barricade Freedom and life, blood mixed with tears Under our balaclavas our eyes are full of rage

FRENCH Écoute la fronde, la terre est battue dans les ténèbres. Le temps s’arrête, les ennuis masqués par la poussière. Le ciel nous guette, en quête de vindicte éphémère, La mer s’déchaîne sans cesse sur le tempo du tonnerre. Après l’émeute, on vient panser les plaies de la colère. On vit en meute, parmi les échos de la misère. La foule exulte, les larmes asséchées sous les paupières, Pas de place au doute, juste une tornade libertaire. La lune et les marais, le béton, la cité, Les éléments s’accordent, dansent avec nos agités. Des âmes déchirées, des amours éventrées, Cocktail émotionnel pour grenade incendiaire. Le cœur à vif, on peint les contours de nos névroses. On fait la diff’, mauvaise herbe dans leur bouquet de rose. Viens prends place dans la ronde avec nos vagabonds, Minuit il est l’heure de se maquiller de charbon. Sur la route sans fin, Sous les étoiles sauvages, Occupations, révoltes, On restera debout toute la nuit. Arraché sur la dune à parler à la lune, S’envoler les plumes des sourires qui s’allument. Sous leurs paralumes on se perd dans la brume, Aux lèvres cette écume qui nous sert d’amertume. Ça fait toujours mal le marteau et l’enclume, Le bad de mes failles, mes blessures mes lacunes. La peur, les mensonges, il n’y en aura plus, Les pleurs, les rencontres, compagnons d’infortune. Perdu dans nos doutes on reprendra la route, Les soirs de victoire comme les nuits de déroute. Il n’y a rien qu’on redoute quand le ciel nous écoute, Avancer coûte que coûte même cachés dans la soute. Se sentir vivant, un peu exister, Les choses que le temps ne peut pas arrêter. Toujours droit devant, toujours avancer, Aux enfants du vent, de la liberté. Après la fin des nuits, Dans la force des étreintes, Quand l’alcool coule, il ne reste que ça. Nous, on ne connait pas de frontière, Ce sont eux qui les construisent. C’est le chant de la cagoule, Encore résister. C’est le chant de la cagoule, Encore résister. Nous, on ne connait pas de frontière, Ce sont eux qui les construisent. ENGLISH Listen up insurgents, the earth is getting beaten in the dark Time stops, worries are concealed by dust The sky is after us, looking for a quick retribution The sea is going wild to the thunder’s beat After the riot we’ll come and bandage the wounds of anger We live as a pack, amid the echoes of misery The crowd exults, dried up tears underneath their eyelids No room for doubt, just an anarchist tornado The moon, the swamps, the concrete, the city The elements get in tune and dance with our restless crew Torn souls, love affairs ripped apart A mix of emotions for an incendiary grenade With a raw heart, we paint the outlines of our neuroses We make a difference, like weeds in their bouquet of roses Come join the vagabonds in our circle dance Midnight is the time to paint our faces with coal On the road with no end Under the wild stars Takeovers, uprisings We’ll stay up on our feet all night Wasted on a dune talking to the moon Smiles go up in the air like feathers Under their spill shields we get lost in the mist The foam on our lips we use as bitterness The hammer and the anvil are always painful My flaws, my injuries, my shortcomings Fear and lies there will be no more Tears, encounters, companions in misery Lost in our doubts, we’ll get back on the road in victorious evenings as in nights of defeat We fear nothing when the sky listens to us Forge ahead at any cost, even hidden in the baggage hold To feel alive, to exist for a little while Things time cannot stop Always straight ahead, always moving forward To the children of the winds of freedom After the end of nights In the strength of embraces When alcohol flows It’s the only thing that remains We know no borders They are the ones building them It’s the song of the balaclava Resist some more It’s the song of the balaclava Resist some more We know no borders They are the ones building them