Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy Because I'm easy come, easy go, little high, little low Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me
Do you know the warm progress under the stars? Do you know we exist? Have you forgotten the keys to the kingdom? Have you been born yet, and are you alive? Let's reinvent the gods, all the myths of the ages Celebrate symbols from deep elder forests Have you forgotten the lessons of the ancient war? We need great golden copulations The fathers are cackling in trees of the forest And our mother is dead in the sea Do you know we are being led to slaughters? By placid admirals, and that fat slow generals are getting Obscene on young blood Do you know we are ruled by TV? The moon is a dry blood beast Guerrilla bands are rolling numbers It's in next block of green vine Amassing for warfare on innocent Herdsman who are just dying Oh great, Creator of being Grant us one more hour to perform our ar
Nicht mal das weiß ich. „Ich weiß, dass ich nichts weiß“ ist ein geflügeltes Wort antiken Ursprungs: „Denn von mir selbst wusste ich, dass ich gar nichts weiß ...“ (Platon: Apologie des Sokrates 22d).