In this album, Recorded and mixed at the Studioscope in Angers, Cali was able to give both a punk and warm color to the 10 songs. 10 pieces at once melancholic and angry, but always tinged with hope. And always stories and encounters:
That of the exile of children on the road in search of a better life, who come despite all the barriers to pass in Europe.
That of every woman who once faced the prevailing machismo and that of those other women in India who revolt against their bosses and exploiters.
That of this mother elephant whose road stops after the fatal gun shot for the perverse and dominating pleasure of humanity.
That of the textile workers of Lawrence in Massachusetts who in 1912, take to their account the poem of James Oppenheim, “Bread & Roses”
I went through the books, I looked back in time
What drives men to bathe in blood
Their dream of freedom and I found nothing.
Then all we have left is to live intensely
To raise revolt as the only banner
Eternals unfriendly to our humanity
Poor lovers, living to death.
Produced by the band, the album is available in vynil, digital and CD and distributed by Maloka, Acontrariorecords, Zone Onze records, General Strike, Appel aux luttes and Rudy’s back.
Bread and roses – Lyrics
Exil
One morning, out of a truck, where you were waiting for
Arriving somewhere, you didn’t know, but away from the danger
Which hanged over your body, still young but already marked
By violence, indifference to the forgetting people.
A the first breath, the first look, on your new life
You felt in your soul, in your heart, that you had grown up.
Tired, abandoned, you felt yourself reel
But you had to continue for the people you cherish.
So much! Now they miss you so much
And that, since a long time.
But you will see them again
When times will be safer.
Little by little, you built a new life
Since this day where the travel stopped in France.
But you still had to pass the ordeal of the papers;
Overstep the frontiers of the poisoned hearts.
I did not forget your smile which was illuminating
The white pages of a notebook where you were writing:
The souvenirs, the thoughts, the nightmares, which always haunted you
Of a goodbye, a truck, a ship, which suddenly moved you away.
To my little brothers of heart: Iqra, Jenuka, Arafat, Hasnain, Zaïd, Manef, Casandra, Vasitharan, Aminata, Banujan, toutes et tous les autres. Que la vie vous sourit !
( Author: Géraldine D )
For a handful of dollars
(For the workers of the textile industry)
Sweat rivers of blood
Breath under the yok of the powerful
Feel full and one day wake up
Refuse to be overexploited
Yell your rage and your anger
Burn the murdered factories
Plunder the stolen wealth
Shine with a revolted flame
The women who have no rights bring things to a head
The workers wake up and want have a fight
Their weaving wombs are at the end of one’s tether
To manufacture flaming fabrics for beautiful ones from the West
Fight fight fight for your rights
Break break break yout chains
Fight fight fight for your rights
Never say die and try to live
Break the time of servitude
Forget the times of solitude
Drive away the misery
Cross from death to life
Proclaim your heightened desires
Inflame your sleepy heart
Sing your forgotten utopias
Give a bit of spice to the world with a sunny smile.
The women who have no rights bring things to a head
The workers wake up and want have a fight
Their weaving wombs are at the end of one’s tether
To manufacture flaming fabrics for beautiful ones from the West
( Author: Raymonde S )
Außerhalb
Wir brauchen keinen kapitalistischen Traum
Denn uns’re Träume gehören uns
Wir brauchen eure Labels nicht
Denn uns’re Musik gehört uns
Wir brauchen keine Religion
Unser Schicksal gehört uns
Wir brauchen keine Parteien
Die Politik ist uns’re Sache.
Außerhalb von euren Zellen
wollen wir unsere Zukunft planen
Außerhalb von eurem System
wollen wir unsere Leben im Griff haben.
Wir brauchen eure Information nicht
Die Information gehört uns
Wir brauchen die Fernsehscheiße nicht
Denn unser Gehirn gehört uns
Eure Kunstgriffe brauchen wir nicht
Denn unsere Körper gehören uns
Wir brauchen eure Grenzen nicht
Denn die Erde gehört uns.
( Author: Géraldine D )
(übersetzung in deustch: Isa)
Will you think about me..?
The earth is trembling around me
The wind is blowing on my head
My companions start to running.
It’s like the rumbling of the thunder
With no flash of lightening
But the one of an hunting rifle.
Will you think about me
When you will wear my body?
I hope it will make you pretty
I hope it will make you happy.
Will you cry after me
After stealing my body
I hope it will make you pretty
I hope it will make you happy
The fear is lifting the dust up
To the sky full of violence
When the despair fall on the ground.
I can hear my beloved friends
Howling with pain and terror
As a shoot stop my escape.
The sun’s disappearing from my eyes
I can just see him here, smiling
When he snatch my tusk from my head…
I was a female elephant
Who liked to play, who liked to live
This is the End, this is the End.
This is the End, this is the End.
( Author: Géraldine D )
Over the dreams
During years, my nights were haunted
By dark nightmares, where soldiers dragged
My parents and brothers along to a certain death.
When everything was finished, silence were enveloping
The wiped tears, the joy to wake up
On a new day, with my loved ones.
And I was seeing my owns
The ones I like
Who will always be there
When me, I feel bad.
And I was seeing, this tiny thing
Which give you hope
When you drag like a dog
Your darkeners ideas.
A simple and modest life was opening to me,
Walking in the fields, crossing the woods,
Listening to the song of a benevolent nature.
I was progressing with no borders, so candid and carefree,
So far from the violence, of the squeezed ghosts,
Who throw the fear on their closed faces.
And I was seeing my owns,
The ones I like,
For whom I will always be there,
When them, they will feel bad.
And I was seeing, this tiny thing
Which give you hope
When you drag like a dog
Your darkeners ideas.
I searched in the books; I delved into the time,
What push humans to flood in the blood
Their dream of liberty, and I found nothing.
Then we just have to live intensely,
Brandish revolt as our only flag,
Eternal rebel to our humanity
Poor lovers to live to death
And I will see my owns
The ones I like
Who will always be there
When me, I feel bad.
And I will tell you: “Come,
Together it’s better,
You will be there for me,
I will be there for you.”
( Author: Géraldine D )
Headlong
I saw the fangs of time ravage the façades of civilizations
I saw the cathedrals in thousands parts of world defying the horizon
Fortifications, protect the reason of the stronger squad.
I saw gods of stones crushing the people with their giant foot.
I touched the sacred of a bronze figurine that women coveted
I touched white walls which shelter the dreams of the forgotten statues.
The charm of an elephant, who bended down to me, to make me go with him.
I touched the beauty, a night on the moutains of Basses Pyrénées.
Headlong, I carry on
I heard the rale of the last blacksmith sticking on the bloody steel.
I heard the bullets of the human’s madness resounding in the wind.
The plaintive cry of a violin invading the pipes of a sleeping metro.
I heard my mother calling me to get out of my dreams of child.
I tested the pleasure of the newborn love in the hollow of the pillow ;
I tested the torments of love running away from the poisoned hearts.
The sweet delights of the flavour of East which made me prisoner.
I tested the joy of the wine of friendship which will never stop.
I felt the smoke of the death drawing near on the banks of the Ganges.
I felt a kiss that wanted to reassure me on the corners of my fringe.
The fire of a chimney taking the beloved one to it’s wild destiny ;
I felt we have to live till exhaustion to take our revenge.
Headlong, we carry on
( Author: Géraldine D )
Obscenity
Obscenity is governing the world
No place left for naivety and kindness,
That’s time of war and pain.
Humanity has open the box of Pandora
Destruction, suffer and death
Are invading our houses.
Withdrawal walls and fear
Are infesting our hearts.
When some are dying of starvation
The others are going on a diet.
When some are working hardly
The others get rich at their expense.
An obscene world
The black blood of earth
Is flowing into the oceans
Killing life from where it’s coming from,
Crushing the future of the next generations.
Human as found his worst predator
Himself.
Animals pay the tribute
Of our madness to control the nature.
Exploited, exhausted and hunted,
They pay the price of our decadence.
The balance is close to the end,
Will we be continuing to destroy,
To dominate and control the world?
Are we so pretentious not to see
That one day our time to disappear could arrive…?
( Author: Géraldine D )
In life like in riot
In life like in riot,
It’s the heart which beat
Like the noise of our step
On the pavements of our desires.
It’s the easy beath too
From our respiration
Resounding in unison
To the rythm of the detonations.
It’s again the foaming blood
In the streets and arteries
Like the petrol from the Commune
In our inflamed bodies.
It’s finally adrenalin
Which kindle the fire or our embraces
Our desire of liberty
In life like in riot!
( Author: Eric T )
A wonderbra around the neck
They caught, beat, fucked, held,
Humiliated, raped, insulted and mistreated you.
They burnt, lynched, shaved, mutilated,
Abused, wounded, handicapped and killed you.
I can not anymore listen to the suffering
Of the women that you drag, throw in the sludge of existence.
That you buy, whistle, sell, and tie,
Call bitch when they happily walk around
And you always relegate to teh sulbaterne jobs,
On who you despise when they take the things in hand.
Never look down anymore
And let’s give back the knocks.
It’s time for things to change
Our bodies, our lives, belong to us !
They ruined, ruined your beauty, exploiting you on the street.
They turned, turned you, to demean and kill your body.
They threw some acid at you, to make oyu pay for your liberty,
Stoned you at death to punish you for loving the one you wanted.
I can not anymore to see all these advertisings
Which trat women like object to consume.
The wonderbra, I’m going to grip it around your neck.
The Lolita, the parfum, she’s going to throw i tat your face.
Your nice car, the blond, she’s going to crash it
And on a bike, you will maybe be less bloody stupid !
( Author: Géraldine D )