In the shit house a shotgun In the shit house a shotgun En la casa de mierda una escopeta de caza Praying hands hold me down Praying hands hold me down Praying Hands Hold Me Down Only the hunter was hunted Only the hunter was hunted Sólo el cazador cazado In this tin can town In this tin can town En esta lata ciudad Tin can town Tin can town Lata ciudad No stars in the black night No stars in the black night No hay estrellas en la noche negro Looks like the sky fell down Looks like the sky fell down Parece que el cielo se cayó No sun in the daylight No sun in the daylight No hay sol en la luz del día Looks like it's chained to the ground Looks like it's chained to the ground Parece que está encadenado a la tierra Chained to the ground Chained to the ground Encadenado a la tierra The warden said The warden said El director dijo The exit is sold The exit is sold La salida se vende If you want a way out If you want a way out Si usted quiere una salida Silver and gold Silver and gold Plata y oro Broken back to the ceiling Broken back to the ceiling Roto de nuevo al techo Broken nose to the floor Broken nose to the floor Nariz rota en el suelo I scream at the silence, it's crawling I scream at the silence, it's crawling Yo grito en el silencio, es el rastreo It crawls under the door It crawls under the door Se arrastra debajo de la puerta There's a rope around my neck There's a rope around my neck Hay una cuerda alrededor del cuello And there's a trigger in your gun And there's a trigger in your gun Y hay un gatillo en tu pistola Jesus say something Jesus say something Jesús dice algo I am someone, I am someone I am someone, I am someone Yo soy alguien, yo soy alguien I am someone I am someone Yo soy alguien Captain and kings Captain and kings El capitán y los reyes In the ships hold In the ships hold En los buques están en posesión They came to collect They came to collect Ellos vinieron a recoger Silver and gold Silver and gold Plata y oro Silver and gold Silver and gold Plata y oro Seen the coming and going Seen the coming and going Visto el ir y venir Seen them captains and the kings Seen them captains and the kings Visto capitanes y los reyes See them navy blue uniforms See them navy blue uniforms Verlos uniformes azul marino See them bright and shiny things See them bright and shiny things Verlos vivos y brillantes cosas Bright shiny things Bright shiny things Bright cosas brillantes The temperature is rising The temperature is rising La temperatura está aumentando The fever white hot The fever white hot La fiebre blanca caliente Mister, I ain't got nothing Mister, I ain't got nothing Señor, yo no tengo nada But it's more than you got But it's more than you got Pero es más de lo que se Chains no longer bind me Chains no longer bind me De obligar a las cadenas ya no me Not the shackles at my feet Not the shackles at my feet No los grilletes en los pies Outside are the prisoners Outside are the prisoners Afuera están los prisioneros Inside the free Inside the free Dentro de la libre Set them free Set them free Dejarlos en libertad Set them free Set them free Dejarlos en libertad A prize fighter in a corner is told A prize fighter in a corner is told Un boxeador en una esquina se le dice Hit where it hurts Hit where it hurts Golpear donde duele Silver and gold Silver and gold Plata y oro Silver and gold Silver and gold Plata y oro [spoken part follows:] [spoken part follows:] [hablado parte siguiente:] Yep, silver and gold... This song was written in a hotel room in New York city 'round about the time a friend or ours, little Steven, was puting together a record of artists against apartheid. This is a song written about a man in a shanty town outside of Johannesburg. A man who's sick of looking down the barrel of white South Africa. A man who is at the point where he is ready to take up arms against his oppressor. A man who has lost faith in the peacemakers of the west while they argue and while they fail to support a man like bishop Tutu and his request for economic sanctions against South Africa. Yep, silver and gold... This song was written in a hotel room in New York city 'round about the time a friend or ours, little Steven, was puting together a record of artists against apartheid. This is a song written about a man in a shanty town outside of Johannesburg. A man who's sick of looking down the barrel of white South Africa. A man who is at the point where he is ready to take up arms against his oppressor. A man who has lost faith in the peacemakers of the west while they argue and while they fail to support a man like bishop Tutu and his request for economic sanctions against South Africa. Sí, plata y oro ... Esta canción fue escrita en una habitación de hotel en la ciudad de Nueva York 'alrededor del tiempo de un amigo o la nuestra, Steven poco, estaba armando un registro de los artistas contra el apartheid. Esta es una canción escrita acerca de un hombre en una barriada de las afueras de Johannesburgo. Un hombre que está enfermo de mirar hacia abajo el cañón de la Sudáfrica blanca. Un hombre que está en el punto en que está dispuesto a tomar las armas contra su opresor. Un hombre que ha perdido la fe en la paz de occidente, mientras discuten y mientras no apoyar a un hombre como el obispo Tutu y su petición de sanciones económicas contra Sudáfrica. Am I buggin' you? I don't mean to bug ya... Am I buggin' you? I don't mean to bug ya... Estoy Buggin 'usted? No me refiero a bug ya ... Okay Edge, play the blues... Okay Edge, play the blues... Bueno Edge, tocar el blues ...