Letra y significado de 'Boots on the ground', la canción de Tom Waits y Massive Attack contra la brutalidad policial de Trump: "Hacen campaña con toda la sangre"

Han pasado años desde el último trabajo de Massive Attack y hace unos meses el grupo anticipó que en 2026 volverían, pero lo que nadie se esperaba era que su regreso vendría de la mano de Tom Waits y con el puño cerrado contra Donald Trump. Los de Bristol y el compositor californiano se han unido para lanzar un nuevo tema, Boots on the ground, con el que quieren escocer al presidente de EE.UU.

Llevan dos días preparando a su público para lo que se viene y aunque la colaboración mano a mano, voz a voz, con Waits (encargado de la letra) ha sido inesperada, las intenciones del grupo británico eran más que evidentes. Bajo el lema "No war" y "Ice Out", Massive Attack anunciaba el nombre de su nuevo tema.

En Boots on the Ground escuchamos versos duros de procesar, como "Hacen campaña con toda la sangre que pueden sacar/Moldea tu mundo, un soldado es solo arcilla", "Mato a un hombre moreno que nunca conocí" o "Salpicó sangre negra".

En estos versos tan crudos y propios de Waits, los impulsores cargan contra la brutalidad policial de Estados Unidos y la política violenta de Trump.

Letra de 'Boots On The Ground', de Massive Attack y Tom Waits

Big legs dangle from a helicopter hole

Big chug rhythm, gotta be now ho!

Brown, mean and young, dumb and full of cum

What can you use a Marine for?

This is a fucking ass machine gun war

With your boots on the ground, boots on the ground

Boots on the ground, boots on the ground

We trim your hedges, we fight your wars

Wait in the trenches and we're fucked till we're sore

With boots on the ground, boots on the ground

Born shiny bullets in an army of ants

Blow that horn, we sleep in our pants

Big titties, big titties

Well we holler and we burn down cities

Boots on the ground, boots on the ground

Shootin' up the town by stayin' in the holе till Jimmy Hoffa is found

With my boots on the ground

Well, something goеs tink when the cardrige is spent

Where do you think all your cartilage went?

Boots on the ground, boots on the ground

Now who the hell are these federal pricks?

Hiding in the Senate like a bloated-ass tick

Air-conditioned fuckstick loafers

Sittin' in a room full of army posters

A coal to a diamond, a vote into law

They campaign up all the blood they can draw

Mold your world, a soldier's just clay

How much does every soldier weigh?

Cut you at the ankles and they throw that ass away

Boots on the ground

Cold and hot as Satan's hoof

Spinning on the world, I'm hiding on a roof

I kill a brown man I never ass knew

Choked on spit and then he turned blue

He spattered black blood, he rolled Fin out

He died right there, I got the pearl from his snout

A puff of gray smoke, the tongue of a cloud

He rotted in the sand and all that they found was his boots on the ground

Boots on the ground, boots on the ground

All that they found was his boots on the ground, boots on the ground