Dit is de tekst die ik in een moedeloze/boze bui schreef.
Of hij ergens op slaat laat ik graag aan een ieder om te oordelen.
O tempora, o mores
Once upon a time there was a girl on strike
Because she grew up in a time she didn’t like
And the people smiled affable and thought it was sweet
A youngster that worries, endearing and neat
Harmless, amusing and touching in a way
And then it got boring, back to the order of the day
But she became inconvenient and she didn’t get mute
She was a real pain and no longer cute
“Show some intelligence, that’s all that it takes”
but people don’t like it when you show their mistakes
but the ghost is out, beyond the point of no return
The bottle is broken, we just gotta learn
There is something wrong
I can feel it in my blood
but I did do nothing
Because I didn’t had the gut
And the flowers didn’t bloom, like they use to bloom before
Because the bees didn’t fly and the seasons were no more
And the girl stayed persistent, a thorn in the flesh
And she didn’t shut up, to keep the wound fresh
But we don’t see what she sees, a world in distress
With hunger and conflicts, we made our own mess
Extinction, pollution, destruction and greed
Too little for consuming, enough for our need
And collateral damage, that’s what we call shit
When it happens to others, an apology that’s it
And maybe she’s crazy, deluded and sad
But how could she not be, in a world that’s gone mad
There is something wrong
I can feel it in my blood
But I did do nothing
Because I didn’t had the gut
And I’m not here to connect, I’m here to divide
To burst your little bubble, your comfort, your pride.
Your Netflix, your Facebook, your cheap flights, your ride
Your online oneliners, each one in their stride
Your coffee, your foie gras, your catalog bride
Your chocolate, your swimsuit, your bitcoins, your shite
And we danced on the volcano, we walked on thin ice
We made up statistics, we casted the dice
We worship the Mammon, we wallow in lies
We leveled the forests, we melted the ice
And we say that we worry and we think that we’re wise
But we kill our own children, but slowly and ‘nice’
There is something wrong
I can feel it in my blood
And I did do nothing
Because I didn’t had the gut
There is something wrong
I can feel it in my blood
And I still do nothing
Because I do not have the guts