No al más allá - Def Con Dos Übersetzung ins Englische

No al más allá

Ya suenan alto y claro
Los tambores de la guerra santa,
Aprovecha, purifica tu alma
Porque los infieles amenazan tu credo,
Tu pueblo, tu secta, tu silicio nuevo
Y estás obligado a ofrendar el pellejo,
A quemar tú casa por salvar el templo
Y a morir luchado con fervor guerrero,
Que tu dios te pide que arrases aldeas
Quemes ciudades, conquistes baluartes en el nombre
De tu fe salvadora, sagrada creencia que está por encima de todas,
Pero yo paso mucho de tragarme su modo de ver el mundo,
Y Cura, Pope, Rabino y Mulá,
A ver si algún día nos dejan en paz

CORO
No me apetece cristo,
No me interesa Alá,
No me hace gracia Buda,
No al más allá. (Bis)

Y sueño casi siempre despierto
Que ya no hay imperios de fe y esta
Deja de ser la disculpa perfecta de la limpieza étnica,
Sobran ejemplos penosos de cómo el dios justifica el odio,
Botín de guerra para el Vaticano
O para la meca y su absurdo pedrusco sagrado,
Se frotan las manos Sultán y templario,
Pregúntale al cura castrense:
¿Por qué hay que cuadrarse ante un cura?
Me lo explique, me lo mente,
Que los legionarios de Cristo
Desfilan al son que les dicten,
Pagan fervor a lo que ellos prediquen
Y ojala por Alá que La Ayatolá se jubile ya
Y a ver si hay suerte y se espanta
Y anula la moda de la guerra santa,
Que ya estamos cansados de libros sagrados
La Torah, La Biblia, del Corán se han copiado
Y dan al verdugo argumentos
Exculpando su alma con cuatro rezos,
Tortura o masacre será perdonado,
Que el mundo piadoso está compinchado,
Así que no se si prefiero soñar
O dormir tan a gusto drogándome más.

CORO
No me apetece cristo,
No me interesa Alá,
No me hace gracia Buda,
No al más allá. (Bis)

Pero aunque no quieras salvar tu alma
No dejarán de darte la charla;
Que viene el Islam, que vuelve la guerra,
Vete corriendo a cuidar de tu iglesia,
Vaya rollo, vaya morro,
Si no tienes fe van a por ti todos,
Prepárate, llena tu despensa,
La ira de Dios ha abierto la vena.

CORO
No me apetece cristo,
No me interesa Alá,
No me hace gracia Buda,
No al más allá. (Bis)

Not to the afterlife

They already sound loud and clear
The drums of the holy war,
Take advantage, purify your soul
Because the infidels threaten your creed,
Your people, your sect, your new silicon
And you are obliged to offer the skin,
To burn down your house to save the temple
And to die fighting with warrior fervor,
That your god is asking you to raze villages
Burn down cities, conquer strongholds in the name
Of your saving faith, sacred belief that is above all,
But I spend a lot of time swallowing his way of seeing the world,
And Priest, Pope, Rabbi and Mullah,
Let's see if one day they leave us alone

CHORUS
I don't want Christ,
I am not interested in Allah,
It's not funny to me Buddha,
Not to the afterlife. (A)

And I dream almost always awake
That there are no longer empires of faith and this
Stop being the perfect apology for ethnic cleansing,
There are plenty of painful examples of how God justifies hatred,
Spoils of war for the Vatican
Or for Mecca and its absurd sacred stone,
Sultan and Templar rub hands,
Ask the military priest:
Why do you have to square up to a priest?
Explain it to me, I think about it,
That the Legionaries of Christ
They parade to the sound that they are dictated,
They pay fervor to what they preach
And I hope by Allah that the Ayatollah retires now
And to see if there is luck and he gets scared
And cancels the fashion of the holy war,
That we are already tired of holy books
The Torah, the Bible, from the Koran have been copied
And they give the executioner arguments
Exculpating his soul with four prayers,
Torture or massacre will be forgiven,
That the pious world is in cahoots,
So I don't know if I prefer to dream
Or sleep so at ease getting high more.

CHORUS
I don't want Christ,
I am not interested in Allah,
It's not funny to me Buddha,
Not to the afterlife. (A)

But even if you don't want to save your soul
They won't stop giving you the talk;
Islam is coming, war is coming back,
Run away to take care of your church,
What a roll, what a nose,
If you don't have faith, everyone is coming for you.,
Get ready, fill your pantry,
The wrath of God has opened the vein.

CHORUS
I don't want Christ,
I am not interested in Allah,
It's not funny to me Buddha,
Not to the afterlife. (A)