Karjaa karsinaan (Angol translation)

Reklám
Angol translationAngol
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Cattle to a stall

I have a voice that spreads a point of view
About a spirit of happening according to which you don't have to pose as anything
We are how they define us
With me I have a posse who doesn't care about it
I want away from the concrete, shackles off my legs
Be free, truly
And not stuck in the traffic lights
Wandering in the same hallucinations
Seeing better only when closing my eyes
Glue on their hands, snatching bills to their fists
From eight to four, the growd is raving
It's all in these models, in the earthly lies
Their prisoners, robots and computers
Food created with intensive production
Poor pig, and additives, stuff it to my stomach - Doesn't fit me
I need something straight from Mother Earth
Seen it before, they don't grow goods from the ground
 
Loaded into concrete departments
people like they were cattle
And our food is also switched
Into gene-manipulated, better
And the good doers are persecuted
Those who dare to say are eliminated
And we just watch TV
 
Since the birth bullshitted, manipulated
Controlled according the benefit of the elite
I won't kneel, I'm not humble
I am a poor bum who stinks like shit
A lord of my own, fundamentally
A good soul, but only to a degree of my own measurement
I don't dream big, I don't demand but I ask
I don't gather material, at least not without a reason
Inner questions, learned through suffering, I got patience
Where does this road take? I don't know
Where do I go? i don't know I just let the wind carry me
Sometimes this spliff lights up for my light
Making the nature my house, the sky my ceiling
I am a musicbox, dissolving the inner paradoxes
I throw the bills to the furnace, and the fines too
 
I think nothing of the system, it's been my sign
When the authorities are calculating our deeds
I came to the world yes
With money they keep the athmosphere of fear up
All the shit up for foist, like silicon breasts on a social climber
The hypocrisy of people is at it's holiest
And the gang won't get a break at any minute
They get their food from John Doe
and the undernourished fat, social and health service is a produced gene-manipulated mash
A true giant of production, we saw on TV
This is hell on earth created by the media
And going even more hectic, try to find yourself in that
I'm staying in a belief, that stupidity doesn't condense in the crowd but in the management
At that time I lived in a rented flat, in a social void
and didn't get myself much strained by work
Alone in the night, fucked up everything at least in my own head
Bridges burnt behind and in front
Let me go of here, save me from this
or soon I'll be buried alive in shit
There wasn't idea too foolish, no idea so headless
That I wouldn't carry it out
Followed by escape journeys, trips to jail
Got fines, hit right into my face
I enjoyed everything, with full being
"I regret nothing" I told so in the interrogations
Even if I don't have much, I lack nothing
The quality of my life isn't dependent on money
Even if living under a boat, a lord of my own castle
Liver casserole gourmet, on disposable plate
 
Kűldve: bluebird111bluebird111 Péntek, 17/01/2020 - 14:00
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Karjaa karsinaan

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