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Panic

Pa - pa - pa - pa - panic!
Using media is gymnastics
They cast doubt, that's a tactic
Every idea has warriors, so I say
Pa - pa - pa - pa - panic!
Only hate on the walls, a swastika
That's not life, that's plastic
Bad times are for the workers
 
They don't need workers, they need fighters
So that panic can kill even when they're firing blanks
Money buys everything, the media are like strontium
They irradiate you with hypnosis while freedom is in a bottle
A bottle and freedom, but bread and water for the majority
Pissed off with unwanted journalists, they fax from the boat
Put iodine on your wounds, distribute bans
Feed the fish, be disobedient at funerals
 
Friend! Give them campaigns
Let the lying start, let the painting start
Rape and billboards at every turn
When they hear me at meetings I want them to freeze out of fear
Give them beans, firstly because they're bursting with goodness
Learn history, that's important because it often repeats itself
A generation born anew, but barely learns the foundations
When they cut freedom, they cut her alive
 
Pa - pa - pa - pa - panic!
Using media is gymnastics
They cast doubt, that's a tactic
Every idea has warriors, so I say
Pa - pa - pa - pa - panic!
Only hate on the walls, a swastika
That's not life, that's plastic
Bad times are for the workers
 
Panic grows and so does anxiety
A bat to the head, no, that's not symbiosis
The majority needs work, not media anaesthesia
Look after your soul, cirrhosis of the soul reigns
The examinations are close, blue envelopes are ready
Welcome to the age of lower professional qualifications
It'll be great for criminals, but fucked for women
Panic turns a nation into a localised tribe
 
It's panic, there's no concentration or peace
When the shooting starts, no one knows what they're aiming at
When the talking starts, no one knows what they're getting into
It's panic, the seasons are bursting ulcers
People are popping like popcorn, and praying weakly
They pray for murder enough, but they don't love themselves at all
They want violence, badges, lighters, or maybe you want joy
Whatever you're playing, they're waiting for the volley, panic
 
Pa - pa - pa - pa - panic!
Using media is gymnastics
They cast doubt, that's a tactic
Every idea has warriors, so I say
Pa - pa - pa - pa - panic!
Only hate on the walls, a swastika
That's not life, that's plastic
Bad times are for the workers
 

A Recitation

Sadness is in the city tonight,
Tonight is ruled by pain
Everyone is calling Him,
But no one knows where God is,
In the city, those few maniacs are laughing
But tonight, the city is crying,
Small snakes emerged
They transformed into throat-cutters,
Dead bodies, big ones
average ones, and even those small ones,
My river is red,
And the Sava River is swallowing them
Although it doesn’t want to,
It is swallowing up those that drank from it,
Those that laughed and loved
While they bathed in it,
The river is tormented,
You can see it in the foam
The river washes ashore,
But it can’t wash ashore
what the snake throws into it,
The clouds come to the river’s aid,
They send rain to rescue it,
For the red pools of blood
To runoff easier.
Even Sava’s siren is grieving
For her children are dead,
She needs a shell to calm down,
She needs some kind of explanation,
She needs air
She is suffocating from grief,
She wants nothing more but to go to the surface,
Even if this means she dies and dries up,
She is calling her servants,
She’s calling Sava’s catfish,
She gives them orders
To prepare human bodies for graves,
For the bodies to be buried
As deep as possible,
And specifically, by the mouth of the Danube
There where the bay is deep,
And so, the catfish drag the bodies,
They invited a big pike fish,
To force other fish off the path,
And the ones that refuse to move
The pike fish swallows them whole,
In the meantime, on the bayou
Following the siren’s command,
The fish have built the tomb
For Sava’s innocent children,
The bodies are buried
It’s Danube’s turn now,
Into the Black Sea
To carry the pools of blood away
 

Take Us

Let's go to the patrol car
Take us to the police station
They'll beat us up
They were trained for it
(2x)
 
I hear walkie-talkie
Two of them are approaching me
They say: Documents!
What are you looking at, monkey?
Empty your pockets!
Why are your eyes red?
 
I see spray caps, you must be painting trains!
'The fuck, man? I say
It wasn't me, it was someone else
Never mind, I enjoyed a smoke
Where's weed? Where's sit?
Where's skank? Where's speed?
 
Speak up, where? I smelled one
Aha! There! Found the rolling paper
Aha, he's gotta have Hashish if he has a rolling paper
Edo cire, Mire from Holland gave it to you
We can smell it, so tell us, man!
 
Take of your sneakers, socks, take off your shirts
Is there anything? No progress with this one without a baton
He probably just ditched it near this bench
He's being a smartass
Let's take him to the station
 
Ref.
Take us, take us to the patrol car, take us all
(4x)
 
I didn't pull a gun, so why do they beat me
I don't steal money, so why do they beat me
I'm not corrupt, so why do they beat me
They can pull my cock, as far as I care
 
This one has a torch, I'm sure*
He can't get in
He's got scarf and posters
So, let's beat him up, wait
 
Journalists are here, tv reporters
We could be screwed
Let'em fight among each other
And then we'll fuck'em up
 
I really feel like beating them up, we aren't payed enough
First in month already passed, it will get bloody
Like in Samobor, during HDZ**
Where were the cameras then, where
 
Take us, you didn't vote for 'theirs'
Take us, eh, you shouldn't have said that
Take us, when we're all in the streets
Take us, take us, they don't know what else to do
 
Good evening, he says, evening
Gimme license, documents
Left, right indicator
And full lights, dim lights
You were driving 5/h above what's allowed
10 euros and goodbye
 
Ref.
 
Like this
Pull, let'em pull me
Pull, let'em pull me
Pull, for my cock
 
Pull, pull, dude
(3x)
 
Call the back up, there's not 'nuff of you
There's not 'nuff of you, there's not 'nuff of you
Call the back up, for fuck's sake
 
Ref.
 
'There's no answer to where the love goes. People are always lonely... But, are you happy? Even in this meager living.'
~ Yutaka Ozaki