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"
La primera colaboración con un único objetivo: buscarle las cosquillas al presidente de EE.UU.
Robert Del Naja, de Massive Attack, en el Unaltrofestival / SOPA Images
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".
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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
Sandra Escobar
Periodista de LOS40.
