The sense

Music, timbre of  our heart's
Somthing soft and harmless
This music means to us a lot's
But souls are traveling and feels so homeless

pictures in our eays
colorfull, not joifull
This colours maskase
the only meaning, it's not sensefull

the schrach, the scech
the meaning of our lanscape,
the dog play's with a meat ball cach
and never ever can escape

the rules and ethics
it's our crime
We forget destenies and ethnics
don't know for what to rime

in past men's adored womens
in present only legs of their
for each night conversation,
in morning- reaches noname
thats the crime!

to what we leaded our truth?
it is all about the people?
"do we need to get up early hun'?
or I can fuck you and don't worry?"

or, "let's drik beer and wach the football sun
mum'll cook your diner for ya'"
"don't worry about homework sun mum do it all for ya'"

I know we're not the Gods,
but we can save our planet
Just don't let mum to do your homework for ya',
and rest will happen on it own!