Our Cargo Party: Marta Three

Our Cargo Party: Marta Three: Living here's no paradise, never makes the news, it’s hard to be nice, might as well be space, people walk around like glue, need food o...

Our Cargo Party: Marta Three

Our Cargo Party: Marta Three: Living here's no paradise, never makes the news, it’s hard to be nice, might as well be space, people walk around like glue, need food o...

Our Cargo Party: Marta Three

Our Cargo Party: Marta Three: Living here's no paradise, never makes the news, it’s hard to be nice, might as well be space, people walk around like glue, need food o...

Marta Three

Living here's no paradise, never makes the news, it’s hard to be nice, might as well be space, people walk around like glue, need food on their plate, everyone wants a better life, show what they can do, away from all the spite, our song still resonates, a feeling far from Blue, in an almost constant state, this barrio is our life, always something here for you, under naked sodium lights, this is what we create, to sing within our blood, we don't stay up late, home is our easy nights, when we look at truth, will be whem we die, laughing at our youth.

Marta Two

Mornings I ask myself why, can we ever atone, pale as my children’s eyes, might as well be Mars, for all they know, we're still that far, they laugh within my sight, the wind is black and cold, you’re here another time, them and dogs you want, don't get stoned, remain calm, when you hear me cry, running from a broken phone, just don’t sigh, say here’s another scar, to keep you at home, a battle is not a war, no matter how we fight, or strain our yellow bones, hold me tight tonight

Marta

You drape all my needs, like seaweed on the bar, salt brings serenity, blow all my pay, then fly away afar, what a terrible waste, clinging to the sea, like something in a bottle, it won’t set you free, a different age, have to stamp the tar, still you deliberate, roll out all my deeds, in a warm hazy fog, childhood dreams, dancing on the waves, all the stuff you're not, instead we view the wreckage, love's no good for me, too many scars, holy water is my drink, , what's going on?

Our Cargo Party: Sal Three

Our Cargo Party: Sal Three: Can you identify, which back door, lies between moon and sky, what till has been emptied, and other parts thrown, on this Spring tide, don&...