Copyright 1991 G.J. Griffin
There’s a place on the coast of Africa. Melilla is its name,
And even though it’s on the coast of Africa, it’s controlled by Spain.
There’s a prison on the coast of Africa.
The people there suffer a lot of pain.
Inside this ancient tomb I sit in Africa.
Tears of stucco fall on me like rain.
Melilla , why have you taken me
Away from my loved ones, so far away from here.
Melilla, por que estoy aqui ?
Tu sabe este solo por la cara.
The people in this prison here in Africa
Are not evil like those who put them here.
Most here still think this is their Africa
And disregard the Spanish frontier.
Many come in search of work from Africa
And don’t have the papers that allow them here.
We’re forced to live like animals inside this cage,
And it’s here we get to vent our rage.
Melilla, por que estoy aqui ? Tu sabe este solo por la cara.
Melilla, hay mucho dolor. Muchas gente … Aqui … Por el color.
Melilla, hay muchos chivatos
Pero mas cadrones, no hay cajones
Ai, ai, ai, ai, ai …
Y fascistas … Y racistas … Han robado Ai, ai, ai, ai, ai …
Son Fascistas … Y racistas … Y fascistas … Y racistas … Y fascistas.
