I've never been more alone than this
It's night but I wish it was already Monday
With others together with me to make the city
With others closed in themselves that open up to the sun
Like flowers when they wake up, they dress up
When they go out, they leave, they arrive
They resemble us, vulture angels
Like mirrors the eyes in the faces
Because we are the others, whoa, whoa, whoa

The walls go down
At the breath of an idea
Allah like Jesus in church or inside a mosque
And we are the others but here on the same road
Cowardly heroes we leave behind pieces of other knots

That wait for us and wonder
Why they are born and immediately die
Maybe swallows, leaves of Africa
They smile at us with melancholy
And all victims and executioners
Sooner or later we are the others

When they sing
When they cry
We are the others
We are us, we are us (in this world we are the others)
When they are born
When they die
We are the others
We are us, we are us (we are the others)

We who live in comfortable deserts
Of apartments and tranquility
Far from the others
But sooner or later we are the others

Oh, whoa, whoa
In this small world now
We are the others

Yes, we are the others
Among the Indians and the Hindus
Boys in pharmacies who can't take it anymore
Families of workers fired by robots
And gypsies from the east in suburban reserves
And we are all victims and executioners
Sooner or later we are the others

The Amazon
South Africa
We are the others
We are us, we are us (in this world we are the others)
When they shoot
When they hope
We are the others
We are us, we are us (in this small world now)
We are the others
We are the others (we are the others)
We are the others
We are us, we are us (in this world we are the others)

We are the others
We are the others
We are the others
We are us, we are us

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