Los Conductos

Pinky is on the run At night the empty streets smell of the apocalypse and the city seems to be on fire Narcotics swirl through the veins and the air Having freed himself from the clutches of a sect led by a certain padre and determined to take his fate into his own hands he is now holed up in an illegal Tshirt factory surrounded by paints slogans and heat presses Pinky is looking for the light at the end of the tunnel but ghosts are breathing down his neck He is running for his life and Colombia is on fire But Colombia is alive