MUSIC ORIGINAL

Titulo: El Sonido De Mi Tierra

Letra: Luis Pereyra
Music: Horacio Banegas

The word of the wind

speaks from singing staves

and the tree beleifed dead

lives in your hands

Ugly the animal death 

wich skinned in his life

gives us dryed in his body

sound of antique life

You, who has knocked with your hands

tree, perch, trunk and live

with the bloody dagger

sceam in the hurt throat.

Your own hands now

catches dry dounds

as dark africans

moving your wooden drum to the sky.

The sound of my land

has this hiddden anxiety

wich travel in time

with hope in its chest.

Mix of dance and crazyness  

penetrates happyness

my blood daces in my inside

as imploring for live.

The sounds of my land

seams orphan all.

The tango goes one way

the chacarera others.

Gods will, one day they all celebrate,  

in my land frm Dantiago, with this sole of africa

one celebration together.

Do not negate your parents

do not negate your sons.

We all are brothers

born by argentinians.

The sound of my land

has this hided anxiety

h travel in time

with hope in its chest.

Author: Luis Pereyra/Horacio Banegas