Macapagal Arroyo indebting the land and mortgaging my people
Feudal lords in the countryside inserting they needle
Can’t hide my pain, not a chillin’ game to watch ‘em struggle
To let Jose Sison get locked on the double
This is a mix of indignance, back to the roots of the indigenous
Rememberin’ the pastures, wind blowin’, livin’ in this
You either die or go abroad to expand your choices
Cause your life is more narrow than tightened up nooses
Since conversion I took Palestine as mine
To struggle to comprehend the people, dangerous signs …
For the next move, imperialist rats rapin’ my blood
Distracted for a moment, now layin’ claim to my hood
Brutality litters the streets, economic hotels
To the bed of prostitution made by white clientelles
When we rebel, I can see that we’re refusin’ to settle
Let’s spill the enemies blood in this ongoing battle

Chorus:
(If I could hide the pain)
Yeah …
If I can hide it …
(If I could stop the rain)
If I can stop it …
(Then all my cryin’ will be gone)

These houses will become the broken pieces of metals …
That’ll turn machetes and sickles to halten their babble
At the steps of Malacanang, their palaces will lie burnt
Far better than waiting for their bullets to suddenly turn
They dig deep, the price is steep for exchanging resources
It’s giving a taste of power to these devilish forces
Callin’ my country to be the model for Iraq
Don’t dare swallow that shit and take that knife to your back
Human Security Act, summary killings, a war on terror
To silence all the critics that makes ‘em look in the mirror
A tourist attraction for the most perverted, they herded …
Girls in they teens inside a dark room is where they get murdered
Even a blind and deaf person can spot the connection
The rise in prostitution is the result of the tension
Of the increasing gap between the rich and the poor
Here it’s barely noticed but there can’t even distort

Chorus:
(If I could hide the pain)
Yeah …
If I can hide it …
(If I could stop the rain)
If I can stop it …
(Then all my cryin’ will be gone)

Far from the days of Marcos and Cory Aquino
But the mind of this bandido, can’t even spot the middle
A transition to a society, you dare to call just?
Hell, if you find it, go ahead and share it in trust
They seek to get rid of all their enemies by 20-10
So this itch at the head can try to run again
So she can tear lands apart and divide it amongst the rich
No white man can save us, so dig yourself outta this ditch
Angeles City, built then torn to pieces by U.S. marines
Just another example of what they mean when they’ll clean
Amer-Asian kins, abandoned and left on they own
They struggle to find the words but I’ll provide ‘em the phone
To reach your neighborhood suburbs even wit’ a quick blurb
Regardless of whether you like it or not, I’ve come to disturb
Cause at the end of the day when you lay still where you stand
You just keep increasing the blood on your hands

Chorus:
(If I could hide the pain)
Yeah …
If I can hide it …
(If I could stop the rain)
If I can stop it …
(Then all my cryin’ will be gone)