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My boy, I am sixty-six years old. Look, I've come here with this cloth so that if the police throw gas I can cover my mouth.
How is it that our republic has come to this?
Who are the rich people our president has given this park away to?
If they get rid of this what are we going to do?
Wherever you step, you don't see grass anymore.
We're tired of statues and buildings.
Instead of having ten apartments per person, there should be gardens and parks so our children will want to come be with us.
What else can I say, Mr. Prime Minister, what else can I say?
What else can I say, my boy?
Let God do what he will with all of them. God give them a conscience.
I'm almost seventy years old. Let him come and take me away to prison, but leave these trees alone.
I've had enough with what these people are doing. He's let the retired go hungry; he's let everyone go hungry.
And now our taxes are going up.
What else can I say? How else can I explain it? I wish I'd written it down and brought it to you in writing.