Shadow

This song comes from a place of heartbreak, anger,  and disbelief — the kind that hits when you watch something sacred being twisted right in front of you. When the Trump administration slapped his name over the United States Institute of Peace, it felt like more than just a political stunt. It felt like theft. Like watching someone rewrite history in real time, taking something meant for all of us and turning it into a monument to ego. 

The Peace They Tried to Steal is my whispered anger. It’s the quiet kind of rage — the kind you feel in your chest before it becomes a scream. It’s the hurt of realizing how fragile our institutions are, and how easily a single person’s narcissism can scar them. But it’s also about truth — the kind that refuses to die, even when people in power try to bury it under gold lettering. 

This song is me processing what it means to see a leader treat our country like his personal trophy shelf. It’s about the fear, the sadness, and the fury behind watching someone bulldoze history, dignity, and peace — literally and symbolically. But it’s also about the resilience that lives in all of us. Because no matter what they rename, rewrite, or destroy, people remember. Walls remember. History remembers. 

This track is my way of saying:
You can steal the sign,
you can steal the building,
but you will never own the truth. 

And the truth always comes back. 

Every time.



LYRICS: 

[Intro]
This isn’t anger.
This is the ache before the scream.
This is the part of history
they thought we wouldn’t notice. 

[Verse 1]
They took the word “peace”
and carved his name above it,
like justice was a toy
he could steal from the nation’s attic.
A sign on a building…
doesn’t make him holy.
But God, the way he smirked
like history belonged to him slowly. 

[Pre-Chorus]
He thinks if he rewrites the story,
the truth will choke quietly in the dark.
But the walls remember.
They always do. 

[Chorus]
This is the peace they tried to steal,
the truth they tried to drown in gold.
You can’t rename the soul of a nation
just to feed the monster you’ve become.
Call it honor… call it history…
But it’s nothing but a monument of lies. 

[Verse 2]
He bulldozed rooms 
that weren’t his to break,
and smiled like a king
standing in the ashes.
Every brick he touched
learned a new kind of sorrow—
the kind that comes from being rewritten
by a man who never knew peace at all. 

[Pre-Chorus]
He thinks if he renames the truth,
it’ll kneel for him on command.
But the walls remember.
They always do. 

[Chorus]
This is the peace they tried to steal,
the truth they tried to drown in gold.
You can’t rename the soul of a nation
just to feed the monster you’ve become.
Call it honor… call it history…
But it’s nothing but a monument of lies. 

[Bridge]
Symbols fall.
Egos fade.
Tyrants crumble under their own weight.
You can steal a building…
but not a legacy.
You can rename a hall…
but not the truth carved in the people. 

[Verse 3]
The courts are watching—
they always were.
Power stretches thin
when pulled by trembling hands.
A sign can fall overnight.
A name can vanish in a vote.
And the lies he built
crack faster than the walls he broke. 

[Chorus]
This is the peace they tried to steal,
the truth they tried to drown in gold.
You can’t rename the soul of a nation
just to feed the monster you’ve become.
Call it honor… call it history…
But we see through every line.
Every lie.
Every crime. 

[Outro]
You can carve your name
over peace itself…
but the people remember.
And history
writes it back.
Every time.

The Peace They Tried to Steal

Buy on Bandcamp here:

Para escuchar la versión con MV  https://soundcloud.com/juan-fco-bueno/a-las-seis-de-la-manana
Para escuchar la versión con Dazz Deva  https://soundcloud.com/juan-fco-bueno/a-las-6-de-la-ma-ana
Para escuchar la versión original  https://soundcloud.com/juan-fco-bueno/a-las-seis-de-la-manana-version-original
Para escuchar la versión instrumental https://soundcloud.com/juan-fco-bueno/a-las-seis-de-la-manana-version-instrumental

A las seis de la mañana

A ti, que cuando suena el reloj
sientes las garras de la pereza;
que abres las calles igual que yo
cuando aún vigilan las estrellas.

A ti, que nunca escuché tu voz
aunque te conozco desde siempre;
que te veo con frío y calor
pero seguimos estando ausentes.

A ti, quiero pedirte un favor:
que me dediques una sonrisa
por la mañana si, en tu opinión,
no tengo que ver al oculista.

Estribillo

A las seis de la mañana
casi no veo corbatas
ni uniformes salvadores
ni cochazos ni sotanas.

A las seis de la mañana
veo sólo a los obreros:
unos marchan y otros vuelven
silenciosos por el sueño.

A las seis de la mañana
¡ay! qué bien se está en la cama
sobre todo cuando tienes
bien cubiertas las espaldas.

----------------

A ti, que tienes que trabajar
en la rutina, sin motivarte;
que estás sin fuerza para luchar
contra los que quieren explotarte.

A ti, que vives con la ilusión
de que un día cambiará tu suerte;
que los fines de semana son
los que mantienen viva la fuente.

Estribillo

AT SIX IN THE MORNING

To you, that when the clock rings
you feel the claws of laziness;
that you open the streets just like me
when the stars are still watching.

To you, who never heard your voice
although I've known you forever;
I see you hot and cold
but we are still absent.

I want to ask you a favor:
give me a smile
in the morning yes, in your opinion,
I don't have to see the eye doctor.

CHORUS

At six in the morning
I hardly see ties
nor rescue uniforms
neither cars nor cassocks.

At six in the morning
I see only the workers:
some leave and others return
Silent by sleep

At six in the morning
Oh! how good it is in bed
especially when you have
their backs well covered.

-------------------

To you, you have to work
in the routine, without motivating you;
that you are without strength to fight
against those who want to exploit you.

To you, who live with the illusion
that one day your luck will change;
that weekends are
those who keep the fountain alive.

I want to ask you a favor:
give me a smile
in the morning yes, in your opinion,
I don't have to see the eye doctor.

CHORUS

A las seis de la mañana AC

A little piece for Ana and Matteo my grandchildren who I think are impatiently awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you my friends....


Shadow

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