L3DLP plays music sometimes: Recent Episodes
L3DLP
Once upon a time I used to have a band. 5 children and 20+ years later, back for a new trip.
ESSENTIALLY PLAYGROUNDS HERE. TOO OLD TO FINISH THINGS!
NEW! 2024! Playing with AI+Audacity Sorry for the flood, these new toys are amazing :)
DIY ZONE: All songs written and directed by CLH - All covers too, helped by AI fabulous generators, Adobe suite tools and Audacity
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
We weren’t born with a collar onWe weren’t born to follow oneNature made us side by sideSame sky above, same right to decideFish hate the net, birds hate the cageHorses fight the bit at every stageOnly we forget and call it normalOnly we stay when we could be freeBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meHabit is a quiet thiefIt steals your voice and calls it “peace”But deep inside the spark remainsWaiting for the day we claim our namesBorn free, born freeThat’s the first thing we should seeBorn free, born freeNo one gets to own you or meBorn free…
You don’t need a swordYou don’t need a crowdYou don’t need permissionTo stand up proudYou only need the willTo say “no more”To stop the yesThat kept the doorWhen no one feeds the fireThe fire goes coldWhen no one holds the throneThe story gets toldSo look at your handsLook at your screenLook at the powerYou’ve always been...Just decide you’re free…and you already are.
You don’t need a swordYou don’t need a crowdYou don’t need permissionTo stand up proudYou only need the willTo say “no more”To stop the yesThat kept the doorWhen no one feeds the fireThe fire goes coldWhen no one holds the throneThe story gets toldSo look at your handsLook at your screenLook at the powerYou’ve always been...Just decide you’re free…and you already are.
You don’t need a swordYou don’t need a crowdYou don’t need permissionTo stand up proudYou only need the willTo say “no more”To stop the yesThat kept the doorWhen no one feeds the fireThe fire goes coldWhen no one holds the throneThe story gets toldSo look at your handsLook at your screenLook at the powerYou’ve always been...Just decide you’re free…and you already are.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
J'ai longtemps cru que la force consistait à tenir.J'ai appris que la sagesse consiste à savoirquand tenir,quand lâcher,quand transmettre,et quand partir.Je reste debout.Mais je ne me sacrifierai plus pour que les autres restent assis.
J'ai longtemps cru que la force consistait à tenir.J'ai appris que la sagesse consiste à savoirquand tenir,quand lâcher,quand transmettre,et quand partir.Je reste debout.Mais je ne me sacrifierai plus pour que les autres restent assis.
J'ai longtemps cru que la force consistait à tenir.J'ai appris que la sagesse consiste à savoirquand tenir,quand lâcher,quand transmettre,et quand partir.Je reste debout.Mais je ne me sacrifierai plus pour que les autres restent assis.
J'ai longtemps cru que la force consistait à tenir.J'ai appris que la sagesse consiste à savoirquand tenir,quand lâcher,quand transmettre,et quand partir.Je reste debout.Mais je ne me sacrifierai plus pour que les autres restent assis.
J'ai longtemps cru que la force consistait à tenir.J'ai appris que la sagesse consiste à savoirquand tenir,quand lâcher,quand transmettre,et quand partir.Je reste debout.Mais je ne me sacrifierai plus pour que les autres restent assis.
J'ai longtemps cru que la force consistait à tenir.J'ai appris que la sagesse consiste à savoirquand tenir,quand lâcher,quand transmettre,et quand partir.Je reste debout.Mais je ne me sacrifierai plus pour que les autres restent assis.
J'ai longtemps cru que la force consistait à tenir.J'ai appris que la sagesse consiste à savoirquand tenir,quand lâcher,quand transmettre,et quand partir.Je reste debout.Mais je ne me sacrifierai plus pour que les autres restent assis.
J'ai longtemps cru que la force consistait à tenir.J'ai appris que la sagesse consiste à savoirquand tenir,quand lâcher,quand transmettre,et quand partir.Je reste debout.Mais je ne me sacrifierai plus pour que les autres restent assis.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Out of the subway, sun like a lie,Three smiling prophets selling reasons to die.Red star stitched on moral decay,They sort the souls, decide who’s okay.Wrong jacket, wrong face, wrong kind of man,Enemy by default — welcome to the plan.A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to the myth, not the flesh — get this.Your promised tomorrows smell like rope and rust,Every clean revolution ends in blood and dust. 🎵You preach freedom with a dictator’s tongue,Call it democracy when the guns are hung.Youth is a phase, not divine law,But you crowned your slogans and forgot to think at all.Three pamphlets deep and you think you’re awake,That’s not consciousness — that’s a fucking mistake.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist!Dead to dogma, dead to the cult of “us”.You worship heroes, you beg for control,Every people’s savior ends up owning your soul. 🎵You didn’t invent justice.You mass-produced murder in its name.You didn’t free the people —You numbered them, broke them, corrected them, buried them.You sold the anarchists to the Party line,Slit the dream to keep your throne and shine.Kronstadt drowned, Ukraine bled dry,“Necessary sacrifice” — another perfect lie.You think organic food makes tyrants kind,Greenwashed graves for a purified mind.Read a book.Learn doubt.Shut the fuck upBefore you try to save the world.🎵 A good communist is a dead communist.Dead to certainty, dead to the script.Tomorrow’s yours, kid — maybe, who knows,But today is still here, and it sees what you chose. 🎵No masters.No party.No flag to justify atrocity.Freedom has no vanguard, no guide, no throne.It comes alone — or it doesn’t come at all.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
Got bread in my pocket,And the road underneath,No king on my shoulder,Just wind in my teeth.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.Footsteps keep on rolling,Dust rising in dawn,Shadows fall behind us,But the horizon goes on.Songs in the crossroads,Truth on every tongue,We sing to keep breathing,And roads to be walked upon.Little I need to be free,A loaf, a roof, and a song,Let the world burn in the breeze,We’ll keep walking strong.
I heard elders say we made small holes,Not to take, but to ask the earth if she was whole.Now men on screens talk of boats and borders,As if a hull and a compass make rightful orders.“If a sailor came long ago,” they say,“Then we were here too, in our own way.”But the trees don’t keep records, they only grow,And the river moves on — not caring who claims the flow.So I watched a six-year-old shrug at the noise,Saying wisdom isn’t owned by flags or toys,And maybe the land will laugh someday,At boats and borders blown away.
I heard elders say we made small holes,Not to take, but to ask the earth if she was whole.Now men on screens talk of boats and borders,As if a hull and a compass make rightful orders.“If a sailor came long ago,” they say,“Then we were here too, in our own way.”But the trees don’t keep records, they only grow,And the river moves on — not caring who claims the flow.So I watched a six-year-old shrug at the noise,Saying wisdom isn’t owned by flags or toys,And maybe the land will laugh someday,At boats and borders blown away.
I heard elders say we made small holes,Not to take, but to ask the earth if she was whole.Now men on screens talk of boats and borders,As if a hull and a compass make rightful orders.“If a sailor came long ago,” they say,“Then we were here too, in our own way.”But the trees don’t keep records, they only grow,And the river moves on — not caring who claims the flow.So I watched a six-year-old shrug at the noise,Saying wisdom isn’t owned by flags or toys,And maybe the land will laugh someday,At boats and borders blown away.
I heard elders say we made small holes,Not to take, but to ask the earth if she was whole.Now men on screens talk of boats and borders,As if a hull and a compass make rightful orders.“If a sailor came long ago,” they say,“Then we were here too, in our own way.”But the trees don’t keep records, they only grow,And the river moves on — not caring who claims the flow.So I watched a six-year-old shrug at the noise,Saying wisdom isn’t owned by flags or toys,And maybe the land will laugh someday,At boats and borders blown away.
I heard elders say we made small holes,Not to take, but to ask the earth if she was whole.Now men on screens talk of boats and borders,As if a hull and a compass make rightful orders.“If a sailor came long ago,” they say,“Then we were here too, in our own way.”But the trees don’t keep records, they only grow,And the river moves on — not caring who claims the flow.So I watched a six-year-old shrug at the noise,Saying wisdom isn’t owned by flags or toys,And maybe the land will laugh someday,At boats and borders blown away.
I heard elders say we made small holes,Not to take, but to ask the earth if she was whole.Now men on screens talk of boats and borders,As if a hull and a compass make rightful orders.“If a sailor came long ago,” they say,“Then we were here too, in our own way.”But the trees don’t keep records, they only grow,And the river moves on — not caring who claims the flow.So I watched a six-year-old shrug at the noise,Saying wisdom isn’t owned by flags or toys,And maybe the land will laugh someday,At boats and borders blown away.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
They keep on saying you must produce,work more, earn more, run all day.But when the last day finally comes,you won't be counting what you saved.You'll count the people that you loved,the things you had the time to learn.Money just buys you someone's hours —the hours that they had to sell.Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.Some of them own the big machines,the time of a hundred thousand men.One man deciding for the town —that's not a boss, that's a king again.We limit speed, we limit noise,the power of kings, the men we choose.Why is the one who owns the moneythe only one we never rule?Count your hours, not your money,that's all the life you'll ever live.Time is the only thing you ownthat no one ever gives you back.And the machines, and the robots,they're here to take the weight away.Not to throw the people out —but so we get the time to love.Count your hours, not your money,we were not born just to produce.We're here to live, to understand,and leave a better world behind.
, plus de fin, plus de pause,Rien que du continu qui ne dort jamais.Le fil défile à l'infini, sans aucune barrière,Tout est fait pour qu'on ne s'arrête jamais.Nos cerveaux restent branchés, saturés,Et la machine enregistre tout, même notre sommeil.J’ai résisté aux smartphones le plus longtemps possible,Pour pouvoir encore disparaître, être libre.Je voulais garder le contrôle,Et refuser de porter leur laisse.Et aujourd'hui, l’IA efface la dernière frontière.Elle pense à notre place, parle comme nous.Il n'y a plus l'homme d'un côté et l'outil de l'autre,Tout a fusionné, et même le silence est fliqué.Coupez les connexions !Reprenez vos esprits !NE JAMAIS ACCEPTER LA LAISSE.Remettez une porte, ou on fera tout sauter.On reprend nos vies.
, plus de fin, plus de pause,Rien que du continu qui ne dort jamais.Le fil défile à l'infini, sans aucune barrière,Tout est fait pour qu'on ne s'arrête jamais.Nos cerveaux restent branchés, saturés,Et la machine enregistre tout, même notre sommeil.J’ai résisté aux smartphones le plus longtemps possible,Pour pouvoir encore disparaître, être libre.Je voulais garder le contrôle,Et refuser de porter leur laisse.Et aujourd'hui, l’IA efface la dernière frontière.Elle pense à notre place, parle comme nous.Il n'y a plus l'homme d'un côté et l'outil de l'autre,Tout a fusionné, et même le silence est fliqué.Coupez les connexions !Reprenez vos esprits !NE JAMAIS ACCEPTER LA LAISSE.Remettez une porte, ou on fera tout sauter.On reprend nos vies.
, plus de fin, plus de pause,Rien que du continu qui ne dort jamais.Le fil défile à l'infini, sans aucune barrière,Tout est fait pour qu'on ne s'arrête jamais.Nos cerveaux restent branchés, saturés,Et la machine enregistre tout, même notre sommeil.J’ai résisté aux smartphones le plus longtemps possible,Pour pouvoir encore disparaître, être libre.Je voulais garder le contrôle,Et refuser de porter leur laisse.Et aujourd'hui, l’IA efface la dernière frontière.Elle pense à notre place, parle comme nous.Il n'y a plus l'homme d'un côté et l'outil de l'autre,Tout a fusionné, et même le silence est fliqué.Coupez les connexions !Reprenez vos esprits !NE JAMAIS ACCEPTER LA LAISSE.Remettez une porte, ou on fera tout sauter.On reprend nos vies.
, plus de fin, plus de pause,Rien que du continu qui ne dort jamais.Le fil défile à l'infini, sans aucune barrière,Tout est fait pour qu'on ne s'arrête jamais.Nos cerveaux restent branchés, saturés,Et la machine enregistre tout, même notre sommeil.J’ai résisté aux smartphones le plus longtemps possible,Pour pouvoir encore disparaître, être libre.Je voulais garder le contrôle,Et refuser de porter leur laisse.Et aujourd'hui, l’IA efface la dernière frontière.Elle pense à notre place, parle comme nous.Il n'y a plus l'homme d'un côté et l'outil de l'autre,Tout a fusionné, et même le silence est fliqué.Coupez les connexions !Reprenez vos esprits !NE JAMAIS ACCEPTER LA LAISSE.Remettez une porte, ou on fera tout sauter.On reprend nos vies.
, plus de fin, plus de pause,Rien que du continu qui ne dort jamais.Le fil défile à l'infini, sans aucune barrière,Tout est fait pour qu'on ne s'arrête jamais.Nos cerveaux restent branchés, saturés,Et la machine enregistre tout, même notre sommeil.J’ai résisté aux smartphones le plus longtemps possible,Pour pouvoir encore disparaître, être libre.Je voulais garder le contrôle,Et refuser de porter leur laisse.Et aujourd'hui, l’IA efface la dernière frontière.Elle pense à notre place, parle comme nous.Il n'y a plus l'homme d'un côté et l'outil de l'autre,Tout a fusionné, et même le silence est fliqué.Coupez les connexions !Reprenez vos esprits !NE JAMAIS ACCEPTER LA LAISSE.Remettez une porte, ou on fera tout sauter.On reprend nos vies.
Human I can't take itWe are losing touchCan we take itAll this talkingI've had enoughCut the internetHuman backAll the people are just poison in my bloodThis should not be how we make loveAll these humansIt's all a bit too muchThe constant streaming of human touchCut the internetHuman back
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
Then dump it all on someone elseIf the future's hereThen grab a shovelAnd help rebuild this shit yourself[...]No mastersNo martyrsNo passengersNo crownsJust handsOn the same machineKeeping it alive.
While bombs redraw maps, you redraw your image.Warzones burn; your feed stays curated.Children count sirens; you count impressions.Missiles don’t trend—your outfit does.The world bleeds in real time; you buffer it out.You call it evolution. It looks like evasion.Rage outsourced, grief muted, gloss maximized.You had a voice. You traded it for reach.Not silence—worse: selective volume.You amplify drops, not detonations.Empathy got edited out in post.The algorithm loves you. The truth, not so much.War is inconvenient. Branding isn’t.You pivoted—from witness to window display.Sirens vs. streams. Guess which wins.You don’t ignore the fires—you monetize the smoke.This isn’t growth. It’s drift with better lighting.History screams. You post.The distance between you and reality? Sponsored.Not a misstep... a pattern.
While bombs redraw maps, you redraw your image.Warzones burn; your feed stays curated.Children count sirens; you count impressions.Missiles don’t trend—your outfit does.The world bleeds in real time; you buffer it out.You call it evolution. It looks like evasion.Rage outsourced, grief muted, gloss maximized.You had a voice. You traded it for reach.Not silence—worse: selective volume.You amplify drops, not detonations.Empathy got edited out in post.The algorithm loves you. The truth, not so much.War is inconvenient. Branding isn’t.You pivoted—from witness to window display.Sirens vs. streams. Guess which wins.You don’t ignore the fires—you monetize the smoke.This isn’t growth. It’s drift with better lighting.History screams. You post.The distance between you and reality? Sponsored.Not a misstep... a pattern.
While bombs redraw maps, you redraw your image.Warzones burn; your feed stays curated.Children count sirens; you count impressions.Missiles don’t trend—your outfit does.The world bleeds in real time; you buffer it out.You call it evolution. It looks like evasion.Rage outsourced, grief muted, gloss maximized.You had a voice. You traded it for reach.Not silence—worse: selective volume.You amplify drops, not detonations.Empathy got edited out in post.The algorithm loves you. The truth, not so much.War is inconvenient. Branding isn’t.You pivoted—from witness to window display.Sirens vs. streams. Guess which wins.You don’t ignore the fires—you monetize the smoke.This isn’t growth. It’s drift with better lighting.History screams. You post.The distance between you and reality? Sponsored.Not a misstep... a pattern.
סלאם, שלום, פקס, שאנטי—די. די. די.בכל שם שאנו קוראים לאלוהי,תנצח הרחמים. תישאר החיים..دیگر از آسمان آتشی نبارد،دیگر نالهٔ مادران شنیده نشود.بگذارید کودکان دوباره نفس بکشند،بگذارید زخمیان برخیزند. یک خون، یک نفس، یک سپیدهدم شکننده،یهودی، مسلمان، مسیحی، هیچیک تنها نیستند.رعد فرو بنشیند، طوفان آرام گیرد،صلح زاده شود، صلح زاده شود.«سلام، شالوم، پکس، شانتي—بس است. بس است. بس است.به هر نامی که خداوند را میخوانیم،بگذار رحمت پیروز شود. بگذار زندگی بماند..
debt tenant serf slave property cattle commodity tool resource cannon fodder waste oblivion... human
debt tenant serf slave property cattle commodity tool resource cannon fodder waste oblivion... human
Je crée pas avec la têteJe crée avec le ventreLe corps sait avant les motsLe corps ment jamaisVisualiser sans présenceC’est repeindre une cageLe système nerveux décideLe mental fait le bruitSi mon corps vit la guerreMa vie cherche la guerreSi mon corps trouve la paixLes portes bougent seulesLa peur veut des preuvesLe calme crée des routesLa survie répète hierLa sécurité invente demainOn m’a appris : “cache-toi”Alors je suis devenu silencePas un manque de forceUn réflexe animalLe danger était partoutMême dans ma voixMême dans la lumièreMême dans le regard des autresTu peux crier “je mérite”Ton corps répond “mensonge”Et c’est lui qui gagnePresque à chaque foisAlors j’ai arrêté de forcerJ’ai commencé à régulerRespirer plus lentementRester visible sans mourirEncore une caméraEncore une traverséeEncore une preuve offerteAu système nerveuxRegarde-moi maintenantPas guériReprogramméJe ne poursuis plus la vieJe deviens respirableEt la vie vientL’identité n’est pas une idéeC’est une sensation répétéeUn territoire intérieurQui dit : “ici, tu peux exister”Le vrai mantra c’est pas“je vais réussir”Le vrai mantra c’est :Mon corps peut rester calmeMême quand je prends ma placeMon corps peut rester ouvertMême quand on me regardeMon corps peut recevoirSans chercher la fuiteJe n’ai pas besoin de mériterCe qui est déjà possibleJe ne combats plus ma peurJe lui apprends la sécuritéEt chaque jourLe signal changeDonc la réalité change
Je crée pas avec la têteJe crée avec le ventreLe corps sait avant les motsLe corps ment jamaisVisualiser sans présenceC’est repeindre une cageLe système nerveux décideLe mental fait le bruitSi mon corps vit la guerreMa vie cherche la guerreSi mon corps trouve la paixLes portes bougent seulesLa peur veut des preuvesLe calme crée des routesLa survie répète hierLa sécurité invente demainOn m’a appris : “cache-toi”Alors je suis devenu silencePas un manque de forceUn réflexe animalLe danger était partoutMême dans ma voixMême dans la lumièreMême dans le regard des autresTu peux crier “je mérite”Ton corps répond “mensonge”Et c’est lui qui gagnePresque à chaque foisAlors j’ai arrêté de forcerJ’ai commencé à régulerRespirer plus lentementRester visible sans mourirEncore une caméraEncore une traverséeEncore une preuve offerteAu système nerveuxRegarde-moi maintenantPas guériReprogramméJe ne poursuis plus la vieJe deviens respirableEt la vie vientL’identité n’est pas une idéeC’est une sensation répétéeUn territoire intérieurQui dit : “ici, tu peux exister”Le vrai mantra c’est pas“je vais réussir”Le vrai mantra c’est :Mon corps peut rester calmeMême quand je prends ma placeMon corps peut rester ouvertMême quand on me regardeMon corps peut recevoirSans chercher la fuiteJe n’ai pas besoin de mériterCe qui est déjà possibleJe ne combats plus ma peurJe lui apprends la sécuritéEt chaque jourLe signal changeDonc la réalité change
Je crée pas avec la têteJe crée avec le ventreLe corps sait avant les motsLe corps ment jamaisVisualiser sans présenceC’est repeindre une cageLe système nerveux décideLe mental fait le bruitSi mon corps vit la guerreMa vie cherche la guerreSi mon corps trouve la paixLes portes bougent seulesLa peur veut des preuvesLe calme crée des routesLa survie répète hierLa sécurité invente demainOn m’a appris : “cache-toi”Alors je suis devenu silencePas un manque de forceUn réflexe animalLe danger était partoutMême dans ma voixMême dans la lumièreMême dans le regard des autresTu peux crier “je mérite”Ton corps répond “mensonge”Et c’est lui qui gagnePresque à chaque foisAlors j’ai arrêté de forcerJ’ai commencé à régulerRespirer plus lentementRester visible sans mourirEncore une caméraEncore une traverséeEncore une preuve offerteAu système nerveuxRegarde-moi maintenantPas guériReprogramméJe ne poursuis plus la vieJe deviens respirableEt la vie vientL’identité n’est pas une idéeC’est une sensation répétéeUn territoire intérieurQui dit : “ici, tu peux exister”Le vrai mantra c’est pas“je vais réussir”Le vrai mantra c’est :Mon corps peut rester calmeMême quand je prends ma placeMon corps peut rester ouvertMême quand on me regardeMon corps peut recevoirSans chercher la fuiteJe n’ai pas besoin de mériterCe qui est déjà possibleJe ne combats plus ma peurJe lui apprends la sécuritéEt chaque jourLe signal changeDonc la réalité change
un inventaire de ce qu’on devient quand la machine gagne.---Dette.Locataire.Serf.Esclave.Propriété.Bétail.Marchandise.Outil.Ressource.Chair à canon.Déchet.Oubli....Humain!
I walked the grid where history’s dead,Concrete bones, fiber-optic thread.My boots leak truth, my fingers bleed code,Singing static where memories corrode.Give me diesel, give me noise,A city glitching with broken toys.No signal, no God, no endgame plan—Just me, my six strings, and this data jam.They sold the past in packs of ten,Then burned it, rewrote it, sold it again.But I remember. Yeah, I still hum.Old blues don't die—they rerun.
Written at 16, becoming music at 46, Carved Stone is a song about power, class contempt, and the lonely feeling of trying to move a world that was shaped before you had a say. But it’s also about refusing to stay alone.---When I think of those who reign,Those who claim they can decide our fate,Rulers of society's game,Choosing paths that they dictate.When I see the bourgeois pride,Pitying the poor with scornful eyes,Their contempt they cannot hide,As beggars they criticize.When I ponder all their wealth,Chic illusions that catch every gaze,Merely facades of stealthy stealth,Revealing their careless ways.Why must I stand alone,In shifting their carved stone?By myself, I can't dethroneThe minds that turn to bone.How can we change this scene?Words alone can't intervene.If none will join the fray,Our causes fade away.We must unite, take a stand,To lend a truly helping hand.Enough of empty talk,Let's walk the walk of brotherhood's command.
J’me réveille dans un pays qui survit en apnée,On t’vend du futur juste pour t’voler tes journées.Leur progrès c’est du vernis sur des vies cabossées,Ton frigo dit la vérité qu’ils voudraient jamais assumer.Les puissants n’ont pas de muscles, que des stylos qui blessent,Ils serrent les vis, nous serrent la gorge, puis parlent de “souplesse”.Ils prêchent la paix pendant qu’ils sucent la moelle du peuple,Et quand on tombe, c’est nos gosses qui ramassent la recette.Les banquiers jouent à Dieu depuis leurs bureaux glacés,Nous on compte les centimes pendant qu’ils déplacent les clés.Ils disent “formation” comme on dit “ferme-la”,Pendant que ton taf disparaît sous une signature qu’tu vois pas.La misère a des chiffres, eux n’ont que des alibis,Ça fait des années qu’on avale leur théâtre de marionnettes et compagnie.Mais le bloc sait, l’ancien sait, personne est dupe ici-bas,Le vrai est rude, le reste, c’est du bruit qui fera pas ta loi.Ils n’ont jamais tremblé d’nos cris, juste de nos cerveaux réveillés,Le jour où on pige que c’est nous la colonne qui tient leur palais.Leur empire c’est du carton peint avec l’argent des pauvres,On souffle juste un peu trop fort, et tout leur décor s’effondre en taule.Alors on parle, on debout, on respire — c’est déjà une menace,Parce qu’un peuple qui s’redresse, c’est le seul truc qu’ils remplacent pas.On n’brise pas les vitres, on n’brise pas les vies,On tape du pied pour réveiller la terre : qu’elle s’invite dans l’bruit.Écoute petit…Ils ont jamais flippé d’nos colères.Ils flippent du jour où on pigequ’leur système tient sur nos épaules,sur nos heures,sur nos vies qu’on brade.Tu leur dois rien.Retiens ça.C’est toi la force,c’est toi l’nombre,c’est toi la rue qui gronde.Alors hausse la voix.Pas pour casser,pour montrer qu’on s’laissera plus plier.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !Pas d’armes, pas d’foule — juste nos voix qui dérouillent.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !La paix dans l’sang, la rage qui circule.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !Le mic comme seule lame,Et tout l’quartier qui roule.
J’me réveille dans un pays qui survit en apnée,On t’vend du futur juste pour t’voler tes journées.Leur progrès c’est du vernis sur des vies cabossées,Ton frigo dit la vérité qu’ils voudraient jamais assumer.Les puissants n’ont pas de muscles, que des stylos qui blessent,Ils serrent les vis, nous serrent la gorge, puis parlent de “souplesse”.Ils prêchent la paix pendant qu’ils sucent la moelle du peuple,Et quand on tombe, c’est nos gosses qui ramassent la recette.Les banquiers jouent à Dieu depuis leurs bureaux glacés,Nous on compte les centimes pendant qu’ils déplacent les clés.Ils disent “formation” comme on dit “ferme-la”,Pendant que ton taf disparaît sous une signature qu’tu vois pas.La misère a des chiffres, eux n’ont que des alibis,Ça fait des années qu’on avale leur théâtre de marionnettes et compagnie.Mais le bloc sait, l’ancien sait, personne est dupe ici-bas,Le vrai est rude, le reste, c’est du bruit qui fera pas ta loi.Ils n’ont jamais tremblé d’nos cris, juste de nos cerveaux réveillés,Le jour où on pige que c’est nous la colonne qui tient leur palais.Leur empire c’est du carton peint avec l’argent des pauvres,On souffle juste un peu trop fort, et tout leur décor s’effondre en taule.Alors on parle, on debout, on respire — c’est déjà une menace,Parce qu’un peuple qui s’redresse, c’est le seul truc qu’ils remplacent pas.On n’brise pas les vitres, on n’brise pas les vies,On tape du pied pour réveiller la terre : qu’elle s’invite dans l’bruit.Écoute petit…Ils ont jamais flippé d’nos colères.Ils flippent du jour où on pigequ’leur système tient sur nos épaules,sur nos heures,sur nos vies qu’on brade.Tu leur dois rien.Retiens ça.C’est toi la force,c’est toi l’nombre,c’est toi la rue qui gronde.Alors hausse la voix.Pas pour casser,pour montrer qu’on s’laissera plus plier.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !Pas d’armes, pas d’foule — juste nos voix qui dérouillent.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !La paix dans l’sang, la rage qui circule.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !Le mic comme seule lame,Et tout l’quartier qui roule.
J’me réveille dans un pays qui survit en apnée,On t’vend du futur juste pour t’voler tes journées.Leur progrès c’est du vernis sur des vies cabossées,Ton frigo dit la vérité qu’ils voudraient jamais assumer.Les puissants n’ont pas de muscles, que des stylos qui blessent,Ils serrent les vis, nous serrent la gorge, puis parlent de “souplesse”.Ils prêchent la paix pendant qu’ils sucent la moelle du peuple,Et quand on tombe, c’est nos gosses qui ramassent la recette.Les banquiers jouent à Dieu depuis leurs bureaux glacés,Nous on compte les centimes pendant qu’ils déplacent les clés.Ils disent “formation” comme on dit “ferme-la”,Pendant que ton taf disparaît sous une signature qu’tu vois pas.La misère a des chiffres, eux n’ont que des alibis,Ça fait des années qu’on avale leur théâtre de marionnettes et compagnie.Mais le bloc sait, l’ancien sait, personne est dupe ici-bas,Le vrai est rude, le reste, c’est du bruit qui fera pas ta loi.Ils n’ont jamais tremblé d’nos cris, juste de nos cerveaux réveillés,Le jour où on pige que c’est nous la colonne qui tient leur palais.Leur empire c’est du carton peint avec l’argent des pauvres,On souffle juste un peu trop fort, et tout leur décor s’effondre en taule.Alors on parle, on debout, on respire — c’est déjà une menace,Parce qu’un peuple qui s’redresse, c’est le seul truc qu’ils remplacent pas.On n’brise pas les vitres, on n’brise pas les vies,On tape du pied pour réveiller la terre : qu’elle s’invite dans l’bruit.Écoute petit…Ils ont jamais flippé d’nos colères.Ils flippent du jour où on pigequ’leur système tient sur nos épaules,sur nos heures,sur nos vies qu’on brade.Tu leur dois rien.Retiens ça.C’est toi la force,c’est toi l’nombre,c’est toi la rue qui gronde.Alors hausse la voix.Pas pour casser,pour montrer qu’on s’laissera plus plier.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !Pas d’armes, pas d’foule — juste nos voix qui dérouillent.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !La paix dans l’sang, la rage qui circule.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !Le mic comme seule lame,Et tout l’quartier qui roule.
J’me réveille dans un pays qui survit en apnée,On t’vend du futur juste pour t’voler tes journées.Leur progrès c’est du vernis sur des vies cabossées,Ton frigo dit la vérité qu’ils voudraient jamais assumer.Les puissants n’ont pas de muscles, que des stylos qui blessent,Ils serrent les vis, nous serrent la gorge, puis parlent de “souplesse”.Ils prêchent la paix pendant qu’ils sucent la moelle du peuple,Et quand on tombe, c’est nos gosses qui ramassent la recette.Les banquiers jouent à Dieu depuis leurs bureaux glacés,Nous on compte les centimes pendant qu’ils déplacent les clés.Ils disent “formation” comme on dit “ferme-la”,Pendant que ton taf disparaît sous une signature qu’tu vois pas.La misère a des chiffres, eux n’ont que des alibis,Ça fait des années qu’on avale leur théâtre de marionnettes et compagnie.Mais le bloc sait, l’ancien sait, personne est dupe ici-bas,Le vrai est rude, le reste, c’est du bruit qui fera pas ta loi.Ils n’ont jamais tremblé d’nos cris, juste de nos cerveaux réveillés,Le jour où on pige que c’est nous la colonne qui tient leur palais.Leur empire c’est du carton peint avec l’argent des pauvres,On souffle juste un peu trop fort, et tout leur décor s’effondre en taule.Alors on parle, on debout, on respire — c’est déjà une menace,Parce qu’un peuple qui s’redresse, c’est le seul truc qu’ils remplacent pas.On n’brise pas les vitres, on n’brise pas les vies,On tape du pied pour réveiller la terre : qu’elle s’invite dans l’bruit.Écoute petit…Ils ont jamais flippé d’nos colères.Ils flippent du jour où on pigequ’leur système tient sur nos épaules,sur nos heures,sur nos vies qu’on brade.Tu leur dois rien.Retiens ça.C’est toi la force,c’est toi l’nombre,c’est toi la rue qui gronde.Alors hausse la voix.Pas pour casser,pour montrer qu’on s’laissera plus plier.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !Pas d’armes, pas d’foule — juste nos voix qui dérouillent.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !La paix dans l’sang, la rage qui circule.ON PARTAGE OU ON COULE !Le mic comme seule lame,Et tout l’quartier qui roule.
Le vrai luxe : ne pas réagirLa plupart des humains vivent en mode piège à souris émotionnel.Quelqu’un appuie. CLAC.Notification. CLAC.Mépris. CLAC.Retard. CLAC.Ego touché. CLAC.Puis ils appellent ça “avoir du caractère”.Non.C’est juste être télécommandé par l’extérieur.La colère n’est pas le problèmeLa colère est un voyant moteur.Pas un volant.Le débile explosif croit que sa rage est une preuve de force.Le passif croit qu’étouffer sa rage est de la sagesse.Les deux perdent.Le premier devient un incendie ambulant.Le second devient une décharge nucléaire enfouie.Le judo mental dit autre chose :- absorber- rediriger- économiser l’énergie- rester deboutPas “dominer”.Pas “se soumettre”.[...]Quand l’émotion monte :- ralentis- respire bas- détends les épaules- regarde large- parle moins- dors avant de décider- ne réponds pas immédiatement- laisse l’autre révéler sa propre confusion- garde ton centreTu n’es pas obligé de participer à chaque incendie.Le sommet de la maîtriseLe stade supérieur ce n’est pas :- gagner tous les combats- humilier les autres- avoir toujours raisonC’est :- ne plus être gouverné par les secousses du mondeUn arbre solide ne négocie pas avec le vent.Il plie un peu.Puis revient à sa place.Voilà la voie du milieu.Pas molle.Pas explosive.Stable.Mobile.Lucide.Économe.Judo mental.
Le scroll infini me bouffe les yeuxIl remplit le vide avec du faux merveilleuxEn quatre-vingt-seize fallait partir chasserMaintenant c’est la machine qui vient nous gaverElle connaît mes peursElle connaît mes faimsElle me sert du bruitEn me disant “tiens”Avant d’ouvrir l’écranJe me demande maintenant :QU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le vide immenseÀ leur bouillie mentaleLes flux “pour toi” me ressemblent tropDes miroirs cassés pilotés par des robotsIls m’montrent pas le mondeIls m’montrent ma prisonUn profil statistiqueDéguisé en passionAlors j’coupe les feedsJe reviens aux signauxDes sites, des flux RSSPas leurs putains d’anneauxJe choisis mes sourcesJe choisis mes détoursQU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le silence brutÀ leur raffinerie mentaleTéléchargeStockeImprimeLe réseau peut disparaître demainPas ma bibliothèquePas mes disquesPas mes pagesPas ma mémoireLe savoir coûte toujours quelque choseVotre temps !REPRENDRE LE VOLANTSORTIR DU DÉFILEMENTArrêter d’bouffer leur videComme des oies sous perfusionREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREDEVENIR VIVANTChercher au lieu d’attendreQu’on pense à ma place
Le scroll infini me bouffe les yeuxIl remplit le vide avec du faux merveilleuxEn quatre-vingt-seize fallait partir chasserMaintenant c’est la machine qui vient nous gaverElle connaît mes peursElle connaît mes faimsElle me sert du bruitEn me disant “tiens”Avant d’ouvrir l’écranJe me demande maintenant :QU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le vide immenseÀ leur bouillie mentaleLes flux “pour toi” me ressemblent tropDes miroirs cassés pilotés par des robotsIls m’montrent pas le mondeIls m’montrent ma prisonUn profil statistiqueDéguisé en passionAlors j’coupe les feedsJe reviens aux signauxDes sites, des flux RSSPas leurs putains d’anneauxJe choisis mes sourcesJe choisis mes détoursQU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le silence brutÀ leur raffinerie mentaleTéléchargeStockeImprimeLe réseau peut disparaître demainPas ma bibliothèquePas mes disquesPas mes pagesPas ma mémoireLe savoir coûte toujours quelque choseVotre temps !REPRENDRE LE VOLANTSORTIR DU DÉFILEMENTArrêter d’bouffer leur videComme des oies sous perfusionREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREDEVENIR VIVANTChercher au lieu d’attendreQu’on pense à ma place
Le scroll infini me bouffe les yeuxIl remplit le vide avec du faux merveilleuxEn quatre-vingt-seize fallait partir chasserMaintenant c’est la machine qui vient nous gaverElle connaît mes peursElle connaît mes faimsElle me sert du bruitEn me disant “tiens”Avant d’ouvrir l’écranJe me demande maintenant :QU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le vide immenseÀ leur bouillie mentaleLes flux “pour toi” me ressemblent tropDes miroirs cassés pilotés par des robotsIls m’montrent pas le mondeIls m’montrent ma prisonUn profil statistiqueDéguisé en passionAlors j’coupe les feedsJe reviens aux signauxDes sites, des flux RSSPas leurs putains d’anneauxJe choisis mes sourcesJe choisis mes détoursQU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le silence brutÀ leur raffinerie mentaleTéléchargeStockeImprimeLe réseau peut disparaître demainPas ma bibliothèquePas mes disquesPas mes pagesPas ma mémoireLe savoir coûte toujours quelque choseVotre temps !REPRENDRE LE VOLANTSORTIR DU DÉFILEMENTArrêter d’bouffer leur videComme des oies sous perfusionREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREDEVENIR VIVANTChercher au lieu d’attendreQu’on pense à ma place
Le scroll infini me bouffe les yeuxIl remplit le vide avec du faux merveilleuxEn quatre-vingt-seize fallait partir chasserMaintenant c’est la machine qui vient nous gaverElle connaît mes peursElle connaît mes faimsElle me sert du bruitEn me disant “tiens”Avant d’ouvrir l’écranJe me demande maintenant :QU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le vide immenseÀ leur bouillie mentaleLes flux “pour toi” me ressemblent tropDes miroirs cassés pilotés par des robotsIls m’montrent pas le mondeIls m’montrent ma prisonUn profil statistiqueDéguisé en passionAlors j’coupe les feedsJe reviens aux signauxDes sites, des flux RSSPas leurs putains d’anneauxJe choisis mes sourcesJe choisis mes détoursQU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le silence brutÀ leur raffinerie mentaleTéléchargeStockeImprimeLe réseau peut disparaître demainPas ma bibliothèquePas mes disquesPas mes pagesPas ma mémoireLe savoir coûte toujours quelque choseVotre temps !REPRENDRE LE VOLANTSORTIR DU DÉFILEMENTArrêter d’bouffer leur videComme des oies sous perfusionREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREDEVENIR VIVANTChercher au lieu d’attendreQu’on pense à ma place
Le scroll infini me bouffe les yeuxIl remplit le vide avec du faux merveilleuxEn quatre-vingt-seize fallait partir chasserMaintenant c’est la machine qui vient nous gaverElle connaît mes peursElle connaît mes faimsElle me sert du bruitEn me disant “tiens”Avant d’ouvrir l’écranJe me demande maintenant :QU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le vide immenseÀ leur bouillie mentaleLes flux “pour toi” me ressemblent tropDes miroirs cassés pilotés par des robotsIls m’montrent pas le mondeIls m’montrent ma prisonUn profil statistiqueDéguisé en passionAlors j’coupe les feedsJe reviens aux signauxDes sites, des flux RSSPas leurs putains d’anneauxJe choisis mes sourcesJe choisis mes détoursQU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le silence brutÀ leur raffinerie mentaleTéléchargeStockeImprimeLe réseau peut disparaître demainPas ma bibliothèquePas mes disquesPas mes pagesPas ma mémoireLe savoir coûte toujours quelque choseVotre temps !REPRENDRE LE VOLANTSORTIR DU DÉFILEMENTArrêter d’bouffer leur videComme des oies sous perfusionREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREDEVENIR VIVANTChercher au lieu d’attendreQu’on pense à ma place
Le scroll infini me bouffe les yeuxIl remplit le vide avec du faux merveilleuxEn quatre-vingt-seize fallait partir chasserMaintenant c’est la machine qui vient nous gaverElle connaît mes peursElle connaît mes faimsElle me sert du bruitEn me disant “tiens”Avant d’ouvrir l’écranJe me demande maintenant :QU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le vide immenseÀ leur bouillie mentaleLes flux “pour toi” me ressemblent tropDes miroirs cassés pilotés par des robotsIls m’montrent pas le mondeIls m’montrent ma prisonUn profil statistiqueDéguisé en passionAlors j’coupe les feedsJe reviens aux signauxDes sites, des flux RSSPas leurs putains d’anneauxJe choisis mes sourcesJe choisis mes détoursQU’EST-CE QUE JE VIENS CHERCHER ?QU’EST-CE QUE JE VEUX TROUVER ?Si j’sais pas pourquoi j’entreAlors j’laisse la porte ferméeREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREPRENDRE LE CONTRÔLEJ’préfère le silence brutÀ leur raffinerie mentaleTéléchargeStockeImprimeLe réseau peut disparaître demainPas ma bibliothèquePas mes disquesPas mes pagesPas ma mémoireLe savoir coûte toujours quelque choseVotre temps !REPRENDRE LE VOLANTSORTIR DU DÉFILEMENTArrêter d’bouffer leur videComme des oies sous perfusionREPRENDRE LE VOLANTREDEVENIR VIVANTChercher au lieu d’attendreQu’on pense à ma place
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
They handed us the fire,They started counting drones.We could’ve healed the world,They armored up the throne.Teachers for the forgotten,Care, time, and basic rights,But Prometheus with bankersEnds up signing for the fight.AI is not the monster,The monster holds the leash.It talks in markets, borders,Profit, war, and peace.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.They call it “security,”It smells like fear with funds.Smart missiles in the skyWhile school ceilings come undone.While they sell us warIn suits and PowerPoints,We want clean machinesTo put strength back in our joints.Agents for the poor,Not only for the traders.Models we can read,Not private gods and jailers.We’re not coding the future,We’re coding in the dust.Not to build their walls,But to open things for us.Keep your kings, your cages,Your silicon palaces.As long as there’s rage in us,We push, we push, we push again.AI or no AI,That debate is already dead.The real question, friend, is:Chains or tools instead?Machines to watch us,Sort us, kill us, shut us out,Or machines to teach,Heal, understand, and build a route.Code is not their rifle,It’s our crowbar in the door.We’ll break their APIs,Their patents and their servers.Keep your kings, your cages,Your winner’s little speeches.As long as there’s a keyboard,We push, we push, we push again.Not to build a better cage.Not to polish up the bars.To break the whole damn thingWith decent documentationAnd fire in our hearts.
mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmyou better be somethingyou better own your houseyou better do your gardenyou better have no debtwhat happened when you have done the right choicesbut everything burns away?mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmThe hungry will bite you,and your robots won’t be able to do anything about it.A war against everyone will break out,or else we all learn to share.mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmA self-respecting wealthy person is someone who sharesThe idea is that no one should have too much or too littleso that everyone can enjoy the playgroundbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkwe just have to share
mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmyou better be somethingyou better own your houseyou better do your gardenyou better have no debtwhat happened when you have done the right choicesbut everything burns away?mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmThe hungry will bite you,and your robots won’t be able to do anything about it.A war against everyone will break out,or else we all learn to share.mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmA self-respecting wealthy person is someone who sharesThe idea is that no one should have too much or too littleso that everyone can enjoy the playgroundbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkwe just have to share
mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmyou better be somethingyou better own your houseyou better do your gardenyou better have no debtwhat happened when you have done the right choicesbut everything burns away?mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmThe hungry will bite you,and your robots won’t be able to do anything about it.A war against everyone will break out,or else we all learn to share.mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmA self-respecting wealthy person is someone who sharesThe idea is that no one should have too much or too littleso that everyone can enjoy the playgroundbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkwe just have to share
mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmyou better be somethingyou better own your houseyou better do your gardenyou better have no debtwhat happened when you have done the right choicesbut everything burns away?mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmThe hungry will bite you,and your robots won’t be able to do anything about it.A war against everyone will break out,or else we all learn to share.mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmA self-respecting wealthy person is someone who sharesThe idea is that no one should have too much or too littleso that everyone can enjoy the playgroundbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkwe just have to share
mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmyou better be somethingyou better own your houseyou better do your gardenyou better have no debtwhat happened when you have done the right choicesbut everything burns away?mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmThe hungry will bite you,and your robots won’t be able to do anything about it.A war against everyone will break out,or else we all learn to share.mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmA self-respecting wealthy person is someone who sharesThe idea is that no one should have too much or too littleso that everyone can enjoy the playgroundbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkwe just have to share
mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmyou better be somethingyou better own your houseyou better do your gardenyou better have no debtwhat happened when you have done the right choicesbut everything burns away?mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmThe hungry will bite you,and your robots won’t be able to do anything about it.A war against everyone will break out,or else we all learn to share.mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmA self-respecting wealthy person is someone who sharesThe idea is that no one should have too much or too littleso that everyone can enjoy the playgroundbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkwe just have to share
mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmyou better be somethingyou better own your houseyou better do your gardenyou better have no debtwhat happened when you have done the right choicesbut everything burns away?mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmThe hungry will bite you,and your robots won’t be able to do anything about it.A war against everyone will break out,or else we all learn to share.mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmA self-respecting wealthy person is someone who sharesThe idea is that no one should have too much or too littleso that everyone can enjoy the playgroundbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkwe just have to share
mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmyou better be somethingyou better own your houseyou better do your gardenyou better have no debtwhat happened when you have done the right choicesbut everything burns away?mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmThe hungry will bite you,and your robots won’t be able to do anything about it.A war against everyone will break out,or else we all learn to share.mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmA self-respecting wealthy person is someone who sharesThe idea is that no one should have too much or too littleso that everyone can enjoy the playgroundbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkwe just have to share
mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmyou better be somethingyou better own your houseyou better do your gardenyou better have no debtwhat happened when you have done the right choicesbut everything burns away?mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmThe hungry will bite you,and your robots won’t be able to do anything about it.A war against everyone will break out,or else we all learn to share.mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmA self-respecting wealthy person is someone who sharesThe idea is that no one should have too much or too littleso that everyone can enjoy the playgroundbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkwe just have to share
mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmyou better be somethingyou better own your houseyou better do your gardenyou better have no debtwhat happened when you have done the right choicesbut everything burns away?mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmThe hungry will bite you,and your robots won’t be able to do anything about it.A war against everyone will break out,or else we all learn to share.mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmmA self-respecting wealthy person is someone who sharesThe idea is that no one should have too much or too littleso that everyone can enjoy the playgroundbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkbefore we have to implant microchips in your children to let them into the parkwe just have to share
17 avril 2026.Le spectacle n’a plus besoin d’être diffus ou concentré : il est devenu hybride et génératif.Ce que Guy Debord avait pressenti en 1988 dans ses Commentaires – l’unification du spectaculaire concentré et du spectaculaire diffus en un seul système intégré, où le mensonge devient total et sans réplique – s’est accompli avec une vitesse et une légèreté inattendues. Le stade actuel n’est plus seulement celui du « faux sans réplique », mais celui du faux désarmant, ludique et viral.La guerre, autrefois tragédie ou grande entreprise historique, est désormais produite et consommée comme un contenu. On ne la subit plus seulement : on la regarde, on la like, on la commente, on la rappe, on la transforme en animation Lego. Des missiles qui frappent des villes, des enfants qui meurent, des dirigeants humiliés, des empires qui vacillent : tout cela peut être mis en scène en moins de vingt-quatre heures par une petite équipe équipée d’outils d’intelligence artificielle, dans un style enfantin et ironique qui rend la mort supportable, presque mignonne. La propagande n’a plus besoin d’être lourde, solennelle ou menaçante. Elle est devenue un divertissement global, un meme de haute précision, un rap troll qui traverse les frontières linguistiques et culturelles.Le discours qui justifie cette course n’est plus monopolisé par un seul camp. D’un côté, un récit occidental dominant insiste sur l’agression gratuite et l’impérialisme revanchard. De l’autre, un récit russe, répété avec une constance remarquable depuis 2007, met en avant l’élargissement continu de l’OTAN, les assurances verbales trahies de 1990 et la transformation progressive d’un pays voisin en base avancée contre la Russie. Ce second récit trouve un écho inattendu dans une large partie du Sud global, non pas parce qu’il serait plus vrai, mais parce qu’il s’articule mieux avec l’expérience historique de l’humiliation, de l’ingérence et de la perte de souveraineté.Le plus remarquable est que ces deux narratifs coexistent sans se détruire. Ils se nourrissent mutuellement dans le grand théâtre mondial. La jeunesse polonaise, par exemple, grandit dans un pays qui se prépare comme s’il était en première ligne, tout en exprimant majoritairement sa réticence à sacrifier sa vie pour ce spectacle. Elle perçoit la menace, mais refuse souvent d’y entrer autrement que comme spectatrice distante ou ironique.Ainsi se dessine le nouveau stade du spectaculaire intégré...Debord écrivait que « le spectacle est le moment où la marchandise est parvenue à la colonisation totale de la vie sociale ». Nous y sommes. La marchandise aujourd’hui n’est plus seulement la voiture ou le téléphone : c’est la guerre elle-même, transformée en produit culturel global, produit à bas coût, distribué instantanément, consommé dans l’indifférence joyeuse ou l’angoisse légère.Ce qui manque cruellement, c’est la possibilité d’une vraie vie historique : celle où les hommes agiraient au lieu de contempler, où ils pourraient distinguer le réel de sa représentation, où la critique ne serait pas immédiatement absorbée et recyclée comme nouveau contenu.Le spectacle génératif a réussi là où les totalitarismes classiques avaient échoué : il rend la guerre distrayante. Il transforme la préparation à la catastrophe en série Netflix, le conflit en Lego animé, la propagande en rap viral. Et le plus terrifiant est que nous rions encore.Guy Debord, s’il revenait aujourd’hui, ne dirait probablement pas « je vous l’avais dit ».Il dirait, avec son ironie froide habituelle :« Ils ont enfin trouvé le moyen de faire de la mort un divertissement familial.Bravo. Le spectacle est complet. »
17 avril 2026.Le spectacle n’a plus besoin d’être diffus ou concentré : il est devenu hybride et génératif.Ce que Guy Debord avait pressenti en 1988 dans ses Commentaires – l’unification du spectaculaire concentré et du spectaculaire diffus en un seul système intégré, où le mensonge devient total et sans réplique – s’est accompli avec une vitesse et une légèreté inattendues. Le stade actuel n’est plus seulement celui du « faux sans réplique », mais celui du faux désarmant, ludique et viral.La guerre, autrefois tragédie ou grande entreprise historique, est désormais produite et consommée comme un contenu. On ne la subit plus seulement : on la regarde, on la like, on la commente, on la rappe, on la transforme en animation Lego. Des missiles qui frappent des villes, des enfants qui meurent, des dirigeants humiliés, des empires qui vacillent : tout cela peut être mis en scène en moins de vingt-quatre heures par une petite équipe équipée d’outils d’intelligence artificielle, dans un style enfantin et ironique qui rend la mort supportable, presque mignonne. La propagande n’a plus besoin d’être lourde, solennelle ou menaçante. Elle est devenue un divertissement global, un meme de haute précision, un rap troll qui traverse les frontières linguistiques et culturelles.Le discours qui justifie cette course n’est plus monopolisé par un seul camp. D’un côté, un récit occidental dominant insiste sur l’agression gratuite et l’impérialisme revanchard. De l’autre, un récit russe, répété avec une constance remarquable depuis 2007, met en avant l’élargissement continu de l’OTAN, les assurances verbales trahies de 1990 et la transformation progressive d’un pays voisin en base avancée contre la Russie. Ce second récit trouve un écho inattendu dans une large partie du Sud global, non pas parce qu’il serait plus vrai, mais parce qu’il s’articule mieux avec l’expérience historique de l’humiliation, de l’ingérence et de la perte de souveraineté.Le plus remarquable est que ces deux narratifs coexistent sans se détruire. Ils se nourrissent mutuellement dans le grand théâtre mondial. La jeunesse polonaise, par exemple, grandit dans un pays qui se prépare comme s’il était en première ligne, tout en exprimant majoritairement sa réticence à sacrifier sa vie pour ce spectacle. Elle perçoit la menace, mais refuse souvent d’y entrer autrement que comme spectatrice distante ou ironique.Ainsi se dessine le nouveau stade du spectaculaire intégré :...Debord écrivait que « le spectacle est le moment où la marchandise est parvenue à la colonisation totale de la vie sociale ». Nous y sommes. La marchandise aujourd’hui n’est plus seulement la voiture ou le téléphone : c’est la guerre elle-même, transformée en produit culturel global, produit à bas coût, distribué instantanément, consommé dans l’indifférence joyeuse ou l’angoisse légère.Ce qui manque cruellement, c’est la possibilité d’une vraie vie historique : celle où les hommes agiraient au lieu de contempler, où ils pourraient distinguer le réel de sa représentation, où la critique ne serait pas immédiatement absorbée et recyclée comme nouveau contenu.Le spectacle génératif a réussi là où les totalitarismes classiques avaient échoué : il rend la guerre distrayante. Il transforme la préparation à la catastrophe en série Netflix, le conflit en Lego animé, la propagande en rap viral. Et le plus terrifiant est que nous rions encore.Guy Debord, s’il revenait aujourd’hui, ne dirait probablement pas « je vous l’avais dit ».Il dirait, avec son ironie froide habituelle :« Ils ont enfin trouvé le moyen de faire de la mort un divertissement familial.Bravo. Le spectacle est complet. »
17 avril 2026.Le spectacle n’a plus besoin d’être diffus ou concentré : il est devenu hybride et génératif.Ce que Guy Debord avait pressenti en 1988 dans ses Commentaires – l’unification du spectaculaire concentré et du spectaculaire diffus en un seul système intégré, où le mensonge devient total et sans réplique – s’est accompli avec une vitesse et une légèreté inattendues. Le stade actuel n’est plus seulement celui du « faux sans réplique », mais celui du faux désarmant, ludique et viral.La guerre, autrefois tragédie ou grande entreprise historique, est désormais produite et consommée comme un contenu. On ne la subit plus seulement : on la regarde, on la like, on la commente, on la rappe, on la transforme en animation Lego. Des missiles qui frappent des villes, des enfants qui meurent, des dirigeants humiliés, des empires qui vacillent : tout cela peut être mis en scène en moins de vingt-quatre heures par une petite équipe équipée d’outils d’intelligence artificielle, dans un style enfantin et ironique qui rend la mort supportable, presque mignonne. La propagande n’a plus besoin d’être lourde, solennelle ou menaçante. Elle est devenue un divertissement global, un meme de haute précision, un rap troll qui traverse les frontières linguistiques et culturelles.Le discours qui justifie cette course n’est plus monopolisé par un seul camp. D’un côté, un récit occidental dominant insiste sur l’agression gratuite et l’impérialisme revanchard. De l’autre, un récit russe, répété avec une constance remarquable depuis 2007, met en avant l’élargissement continu de l’OTAN, les assurances verbales trahies de 1990 et la transformation progressive d’un pays voisin en base avancée contre la Russie. Ce second récit trouve un écho inattendu dans une large partie du Sud global, non pas parce qu’il serait plus vrai, mais parce qu’il s’articule mieux avec l’expérience historique de l’humiliation, de l’ingérence et de la perte de souveraineté.Le plus remarquable est que ces deux narratifs coexistent sans se détruire. Ils se nourrissent mutuellement dans le grand théâtre mondial. La jeunesse polonaise, par exemple, grandit dans un pays qui se prépare comme s’il était en première ligne, tout en exprimant majoritairement sa réticence à sacrifier sa vie pour ce spectacle. Elle perçoit la menace, mais refuse souvent d’y entrer autrement que comme spectatrice distante ou ironique.Ainsi se dessine le nouveau stade du spectaculaire intégré :...Debord écrivait que « le spectacle est le moment où la marchandise est parvenue à la colonisation totale de la vie sociale ». Nous y sommes. La marchandise aujourd’hui n’est plus seulement la voiture ou le téléphone : c’est la guerre elle-même, transformée en produit culturel global, produit à bas coût, distribué instantanément, consommé dans l’indifférence joyeuse ou l’angoisse légère.Ce qui manque cruellement, c’est la possibilité d’une vraie vie historique : celle où les hommes agiraient au lieu de contempler, où ils pourraient distinguer le réel de sa représentation, où la critique ne serait pas immédiatement absorbée et recyclée comme nouveau contenu.Le spectacle génératif a réussi là où les totalitarismes classiques avaient échoué : il rend la guerre distrayante. Il transforme la préparation à la catastrophe en série Netflix, le conflit en Lego animé, la propagande en rap viral. Et le plus terrifiant est que nous rions encore.Guy Debord, s’il revenait aujourd’hui, ne dirait probablement pas « je vous l’avais dit ».Il dirait, avec son ironie froide habituelle :« Ils ont enfin trouvé le moyen de faire de la mort un divertissement familial.Bravo. Le spectacle est complet. »
On nous vend la fin des temps par la tignassePendant qu’l’IA compte les missiles au lieu d’compter l’eau qui passeJ’veux pas d’ton ciel qui brûle, ni d’ton enfer programméJ’veux des usines qui reviennent, et l’eau potable pour tous les damnésLes VRP en soutane ou costard-cravateNous lisent l’Apocalypse comme un plan de batailleÉzéchiel en boucle, Gog qui s’approchePendant qu’on assèche les rivières pour refroidir les processeursMais l’histoire a déjà trahi plus d’un prophèteDes hommes ont détourné le fer, le feu, le bétonJ’prends mon micro comme un levier, pas comme une prièrePour dire qu’le film est mal écrit, et qu’on peut encore changer d’acteurC’est pas naïf d’espérer, c’est con de s’résignerY’a des mains qui codent l’avenir au lieu d’le maudireRelocaliser, optimiser, partager l’eau et l’énergiePas parce que c’est écrit… mais parce qu’on décide d’essayerOn nous traîne pas par les cheveux si on refuse d’marcherSkynet ou pas, j’choisis d’construire avant d’crever
On nous vend la fin des temps par la tignassePendant qu’l’IA compte les missiles au lieu d’compter l’eau qui passeJ’veux pas d’ton ciel qui brûle, ni d’ton enfer programméJ’veux des usines qui reviennent, et l’eau potable pour tous les damnésLes VRP en soutane ou costard-cravateNous lisent l’Apocalypse comme un plan de batailleÉzéchiel en boucle, Gog qui s’approchePendant qu’on assèche les rivières pour refroidir les processeursMais l’histoire a déjà trahi plus d’un prophèteDes hommes ont détourné le fer, le feu, le bétonJ’prends mon micro comme un levier, pas comme une prièrePour dire qu’le film est mal écrit, et qu’on peut encore changer d’acteurC’est pas naïf d’espérer, c’est con de s’résignerY’a des mains qui codent l’avenir au lieu d’le maudireRelocaliser, optimiser, partager l’eau et l’énergiePas parce que c’est écrit… mais parce qu’on décide d’essayerOn nous traîne pas par les cheveux si on refuse d’marcherSkynet ou pas, j’choisis d’construire avant d’crever
On nous vend la fin des temps par la tignassePendant qu’l’IA compte les missiles au lieu d’compter l’eau qui passeJ’veux pas d’ton ciel qui brûle, ni d’ton enfer programméJ’veux des usines qui reviennent, et l’eau potable pour tous les damnésLes VRP en soutane ou costard-cravateNous lisent l’Apocalypse comme un plan de batailleÉzéchiel en boucle, Gog qui s’approchePendant qu’on assèche les rivières pour refroidir les processeursMais l’histoire a déjà trahi plus d’un prophèteDes hommes ont détourné le fer, le feu, le bétonJ’prends mon micro comme un levier, pas comme une prièrePour dire qu’le film est mal écrit, et qu’on peut encore changer d’acteurC’est pas naïf d’espérer, c’est con de s’résignerY’a des mains qui codent l’avenir au lieu d’le maudireRelocaliser, optimiser, partager l’eau et l’énergiePas parce que c’est écrit… mais parce qu’on décide d’essayerOn nous traîne pas par les cheveux si on refuse d’marcherSkynet ou pas, j’choisis d’construire avant d’crever
On nous vend la fin des temps par la tignassePendant qu’l’IA compte les missiles au lieu d’compter l’eau qui passeJ’veux pas d’ton ciel qui brûle, ni d’ton enfer programméJ’veux des usines qui reviennent, et l’eau potable pour tous les damnésLes VRP en soutane ou costard-cravateNous lisent l’Apocalypse comme un plan de batailleÉzéchiel en boucle, Gog qui s’approchePendant qu’on assèche les rivières pour refroidir les processeursMais l’histoire a déjà trahi plus d’un prophèteDes hommes ont détourné le fer, le feu, le bétonJ’prends mon micro comme un levier, pas comme une prièrePour dire qu’le film est mal écrit, et qu’on peut encore changer d’acteurC’est pas naïf d’espérer, c’est con de s’résignerY’a des mains qui codent l’avenir au lieu d’le maudireRelocaliser, optimiser, partager l’eau et l’énergiePas parce que c’est écrit… mais parce qu’on décide d’essayerOn nous traîne pas par les cheveux si on refuse d’marcherSkynet ou pas, j’choisis d’construire avant d’crever
On nous vend la fin des temps par la tignassePendant qu’l’IA compte les missiles au lieu d’compter l’eau qui passeJ’veux pas d’ton ciel qui brûle, ni d’ton enfer programméJ’veux des usines qui reviennent, et l’eau potable pour tous les damnésLes VRP en soutane ou costard-cravateNous lisent l’Apocalypse comme un plan de batailleÉzéchiel en boucle, Gog qui s’approchePendant qu’on assèche les rivières pour refroidir les processeursMais l’histoire a déjà trahi plus d’un prophèteDes hommes ont détourné le fer, le feu, le bétonJ’prends mon micro comme un levier, pas comme une prièrePour dire qu’le film est mal écrit, et qu’on peut encore changer d’acteurC’est pas naïf d’espérer, c’est con de s’résignerY’a des mains qui codent l’avenir au lieu d’le maudireRelocaliser, optimiser, partager l’eau et l’énergiePas parce que c’est écrit… mais parce qu’on décide d’essayerOn nous traîne pas par les cheveux si on refuse d’marcherSkynet ou pas, j’choisis d’construire avant d’crever
On nous vend la fin des temps par la tignassePendant qu’l’IA compte les missiles au lieu d’compter l’eau qui passeJ’veux pas d’ton ciel qui brûle, ni d’ton enfer programméJ’veux des usines qui reviennent, et l’eau potable pour tous les damnésLes VRP en soutane ou costard-cravateNous lisent l’Apocalypse comme un plan de batailleÉzéchiel en boucle, Gog qui s’approchePendant qu’on assèche les rivières pour refroidir les processeursMais l’histoire a déjà trahi plus d’un prophèteDes hommes ont détourné le fer, le feu, le bétonJ’prends mon micro comme un levier, pas comme une prièrePour dire qu’le film est mal écrit, et qu’on peut encore changer d’acteurC’est pas naïf d’espérer, c’est con de s’résignerY’a des mains qui codent l’avenir au lieu d’le maudireRelocaliser, optimiser, partager l’eau et l’énergiePas parce que c’est écrit… mais parce qu’on décide d’essayerOn nous traîne pas par les cheveux si on refuse d’marcherSkynet ou pas, j’choisis d’construire avant d’crever
I ain’t been baptized,ain’t got no stamped-up soul,I just seen too many flagstryin’ to eat the whole damn world.I got love for the believerswho just wanna do some good,keep a little flame alivein a mean and crooked hood.But them three old family businesses,them cousins dressed in light,keep feedin’ whole crowds holy gasolineand callin’ that a right.And I got the blues,but not the lay-down kind,not the dig-your-holeand let ‘em salt your mind.I got the blueswith a boot heel beatin’ time,sayin’ you can keep your holy war,you ain’t takin’ this heart of mine.I seen scripture in a politician’s mouth,seen heaven sold with steel,seen dead kids turned into numbersfor a broadcast and a deal.I don’t blame the woman prayin’,or the man just holdin’ fast,I blame the hands that farm up fearand sell the fire as fate at last.Yeah I got the blues,but not the crawl-away kind,not the drown-in-dustand call it all divine.I got the blueswith a matchstick in the grime,and if the world wants one more grave,I’m drawin’ me a different line.I believe in kitchen-table mercy,I believe in broken saints,I believe in folks who still stay humanwhen the whole machine says “ain’t.”I don’t need no club card heaven,don’t need no chosen throne,just a few more people mean enoughto leave each other whole.Let the TV prophets foam,let the empire boys play brave,I’ve seen more truth in tired handsthan in every flag they wave.Yeah I got the blues,but it ain’t a white flag song,it’s a stand-up slow burn,a dirty right from wrong.I got the blues,and the bastard’s still alive,long as one voice says “not this time,”there’s still a human side.
I ain’t been baptized,ain’t got no stamped-up soul,I just seen too many flagstryin’ to eat the whole damn world.I got love for the believerswho just wanna do some good,keep a little flame alivein a mean and crooked hood.But them three old family businesses,them cousins dressed in light,keep feedin’ whole crowds holy gasolineand callin’ that a right.And I got the blues,but not the lay-down kind,not the dig-your-holeand let ‘em salt your mind.I got the blueswith a boot heel beatin’ time,sayin’ you can keep your holy war,you ain’t takin’ this heart of mine.I seen scripture in a politician’s mouth,seen heaven sold with steel,seen dead kids turned into numbersfor a broadcast and a deal.I don’t blame the woman prayin’,or the man just holdin’ fast,I blame the hands that farm up fearand sell the fire as fate at last.Yeah I got the blues,but not the crawl-away kind,not the drown-in-dustand call it all divine.I got the blueswith a matchstick in the grime,and if the world wants one more grave,I’m drawin’ me a different line.I believe in kitchen-table mercy,I believe in broken saints,I believe in folks who still stay humanwhen the whole machine says “ain’t.”I don’t need no club card heaven,don’t need no chosen throne,just a few more people mean enoughto leave each other whole.Let the TV prophets foam,let the empire boys play brave,I’ve seen more truth in tired handsthan in every flag they wave.Yeah I got the blues,but it ain’t a white flag song,it’s a stand-up slow burn,a dirty right from wrong.I got the blues,and the bastard’s still alive,long as one voice says “not this time,”there’s still a human side.
47 ans, la même rage qui brûle.À 20 ans je rêvais grand, aujourd’hui je vois clair.C’est pas un film, y’a pas de générique.Écoute le sang qui coule derrière les écrans.Avril 2026, les missiles trouent la Perse,ils promettent la victoire comme on vend une pub.Les vieux chefs jouent encore aux cow-boys nerveux,pendant que le monde retient son souffle dans le feu.Ils menacent des peuples bâtis sur des millénairesavec leurs jouets, leurs cartes, leurs mensonges militaires.On croit plier l’Histoire à coups de drones et de slogans,mais la dignité ne se couche pas si facilement dans le sang.Ils ont perdu la mémoire de 45,la sagesse des ruines, l’humilité des morts.Ils croient qu’on peut bombarder la dignitéet que le monde dira merci, plus fort.Moi j’attends la table,sans maître et sans valet.Partage ou crève,y’a pas d’autre vérité.La génération aux manettes a oublié le vrai sang,elle n’a connu que l’image, le contrôle et le distant.Elle parle de règles la bouche pleine de contrats,pendant que les peuples crèvent sous les chiffres et les draps.L’Occident s’est perdu dans le confort et la puissance,il croit encore que la tech remplacera la conscience.À 20 ans je croyais en l’homme, à 47 je vois la bête,toujours la même folie, juste une machine plus nette.J’essaie de le dire avec ma rage et ma fatigue,avec cette lucidité qui casse plus qu’elle ne guide.La paix ne viendra ni des bombes ni des tweets,elle viendra quand on acceptera d’être petits.Imagine un jour la ville sale mais debout,où plus personne ne rampe et où plus personne ne joue.Plus de nous contre eux, plus de peuples supérieurs,juste des humains face à l’eau, au feu, à la peur.Ça prendra des défaites, des larmes et du silence,la sagesse revient toujours après l’arrogance.Alors crache ta vérité, même si ta voix tremble,le silence des lâches est plus violent que les cendres.Ils ont perdu la mémoire de 45…mais nous, on porte encore la cicatrice.J’attends la table.Partage ou on crève tous.Pas Hollywood ici.Juste la vie.Juste nous.
I killed that buzzing wire like a bad cheap dream tonight.That little glass machine kept eating holes through my bones.It rang like hungry teeth in the walls past midnight.It drank my Sunday clean and called the damage work.I’ve been the spare old nerve in too many dead rooms.I’ve been the unpaid fuse in other people’s storms.I’ve hauled their broken weather in a paper cup.I’ve watched the panic grin and ask me for one more.But silence came in slow, in a secondhand black coat.It sat down by my boots and told me, son, enough.So I shut that crooked door on all that borrowed heat.Let support be support, let the fire show its name.Leaving ain’t running, friend, it’s taking back your ground.And tonight this old heart sleeps outside the switchboard.
J’ai vu les drapeaux bouffer la lumière,les vieux dieux repeints sur des missiles neufs,j’ai vu les foules prier pour des frontières,comme si le ciel votait avec les veuves.Moi j’suis d’aucun baptême, d’aucune bannière,j’ai pas la carte, j’ai gardé mes mains,mais je salue ceux qui tiennent la lumièredans ce grand carnaval de couteaux saints.Et j’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,mais pas celui qui rampe et qui s’excuse,j’ai l’blues qui cogne du talon dans la boue,qui dit : “pas en mon nom, pas jusqu’au bout.”J’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,un blues têtu, pas un drapeau qu’on use,si le monde veut marcher vers le trou,moi j’garde une allumette, et j’la plante debout.Les trois cousins s’disputent le tonnerre,et les marchands vendent des cercueils bénis,toujours les mêmes qui grattent la misère,toujours les mêmes qui maquillent l’incendie.Mais dans l’quartier, dans la cuisine, dans l’atelier,y a des croyants plus grands que leurs sermons,des gens modestes qui recousent la paixavec du pain, du café, des prénoms.Et j’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,mais pas celui qui rampe et qui s’excuse,j’ai l’blues qui garde encore un peu d’amour,pour les vivants, les cabossés, les sourds.J’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,un blues de fer sous la flotte et la rouille,si les prophètes veulent vendre leur courroux,moi j’préfère un humain qui tient l’coup.J’crois pas aux foules quand elles parlent en meute,j’crois aux visages, aux silences tenus,à ceux qui ramassent l’espoir dans les émeutes,sans demander quel dieu t’as reconnu.Alors qu’ils gardent leurs tribunes et leurs guerres,leurs vérités cloutées, leurs grands discours,moi j’vais jouer plus bas, plus clair, plus terrestre,avec du vrai, du tremblé, du retour.Ouais j’ai l’blues, mais il regarde devant,pas comme un chien battu, plutôt comme un vivant,et tant qu’il reste une gorge pour dire non,y aura du feu humain dans la chanson.
Fermez vos gueules un peu,rangez vos dieux, vos livres et vos drapeaux,vous criez tous si fortqu’on n’entend même plus les vivants.Vous parlez de lumièreavec du sang collé partout aux mains,vous jurez par l’amouren préparant la guerre du matin.Fermez vos gueules.Le premier commandement d’abord.Aime avant de régner.Aime avant de punir.Aime avant d’avoir tort en chœur.Et quand vous saurez tenir un frère deboutsans lui planter votre vérité dans le cou,alors on reparlera du ciel.J’veux plus vos véritésquand elles arrivent en colonnes et en flammes,j’veux plus vos grands sermonssi l’homme y sort plus petit que vos dogmes.Le sacré sans bontéc’est juste une arme avec de belles phrases,et vos temples trop sûrssentent souvent le feu sous la gaze.Fermez vos gueules.Le premier commandement d’abord.Aime avant de juger.Aime avant de choisir ton camp.Aime avant d’ouvrir la fosse.Et quand vous saurez laisser un enfant dormirsans bénir le canon qui vise son avenir,alors on reparlera du ciel.Je n’ai pas votre carte,mais j’ai vu mieux que vos croisades :des mains, du pain,du silence,des gens qui sauvent sans parade.Alors fermez vos gueules.Le premier commandement ou rien.Pas vos foules.Pas vos chefs.Pas vos morts brandis comme permis.Aime d’abord.Le reste attendra.Et si ton dieu veut parler par ta bouche,qu’il commence par désarmer ton bras.
J’ai vu les drapeaux bouffer la lumière,les vieux dieux repeints sur des missiles neufs,j’ai vu les foules prier pour des frontières,comme si le ciel votait avec les veuves.Moi j’suis d’aucun baptême, d’aucune bannière,j’ai pas la carte, j’ai gardé mes mains,mais je salue ceux qui tiennent la lumièredans ce grand carnaval de couteaux saints.Et j’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,mais pas celui qui rampe et qui s’excuse,j’ai l’blues qui cogne du talon dans la boue,qui dit : “pas en mon nom, pas jusqu’au bout.”J’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,un blues têtu, pas un drapeau qu’on use,si le monde veut marcher vers le trou,moi j’garde une allumette, et j’la plante debout.Les trois cousins s’disputent le tonnerre,et les marchands vendent des cercueils bénis,toujours les mêmes qui grattent la misère,toujours les mêmes qui maquillent l’incendie.Mais dans l’quartier, dans la cuisine, dans l’atelier,y a des croyants plus grands que leurs sermons,des gens modestes qui recousent la paixavec du pain, du café, des prénoms.Et j’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,mais pas celui qui rampe et qui s’excuse,j’ai l’blues qui garde encore un peu d’amour,pour les vivants, les cabossés, les sourds.J’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,un blues de fer sous la flotte et la rouille,si les prophètes veulent vendre leur courroux,moi j’préfère un humain qui tient l’coup.J’crois pas aux foules quand elles parlent en meute,j’crois aux visages, aux silences tenus,à ceux qui ramassent l’espoir dans les émeutes,sans demander quel dieu t’as reconnu.Alors qu’ils gardent leurs tribunes et leurs guerres,leurs vérités cloutées, leurs grands discours,moi j’vais jouer plus bas, plus clair, plus terrestre,avec du vrai, du tremblé, du retour.Ouais j’ai l’blues, mais il regarde devant,pas comme un chien battu, plutôt comme un vivant,et tant qu’il reste une gorge pour dire non,y aura du feu humain dans la chanson.
J’ai vu les drapeaux bouffer la lumière,les vieux dieux repeints sur des missiles neufs,j’ai vu les foules prier pour des frontières,comme si le ciel votait avec les veuves.Moi j’suis d’aucun baptême, d’aucune bannière,j’ai pas la carte, j’ai gardé mes mains,mais je salue ceux qui tiennent la lumièredans ce grand carnaval de couteaux saints.Et j’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,mais pas celui qui rampe et qui s’excuse,j’ai l’blues qui cogne du talon dans la boue,qui dit : “pas en mon nom, pas jusqu’au bout.”J’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,un blues têtu, pas un drapeau qu’on use,si le monde veut marcher vers le trou,moi j’garde une allumette, et j’la plante debout.Les trois cousins s’disputent le tonnerre,et les marchands vendent des cercueils bénis,toujours les mêmes qui grattent la misère,toujours les mêmes qui maquillent l’incendie.Mais dans l’quartier, dans la cuisine, dans l’atelier,y a des croyants plus grands que leurs sermons,des gens modestes qui recousent la paixavec du pain, du café, des prénoms.Et j’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,mais pas celui qui rampe et qui s’excuse,j’ai l’blues qui garde encore un peu d’amour,pour les vivants, les cabossés, les sourds.J’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,un blues de fer sous la flotte et la rouille,si les prophètes veulent vendre leur courroux,moi j’préfère un humain qui tient l’coup.J’crois pas aux foules quand elles parlent en meute,j’crois aux visages, aux silences tenus,à ceux qui ramassent l’espoir dans les émeutes,sans demander quel dieu t’as reconnu.Alors qu’ils gardent leurs tribunes et leurs guerres,leurs vérités cloutées, leurs grands discours,moi j’vais jouer plus bas, plus clair, plus terrestre,avec du vrai, du tremblé, du retour.Ouais j’ai l’blues, mais il regarde devant,pas comme un chien battu, plutôt comme un vivant,et tant qu’il reste une gorge pour dire non,y aura du feu humain dans la chanson.
Fermez vos gueules un peu,rangez vos dieux, vos livres et vos drapeaux,vous criez tous si fortqu’on n’entend même plus les vivants.Vous parlez de lumièreavec du sang collé partout aux mains,vous jurez par l’amouren préparant la guerre du matin.Fermez vos gueules.Le premier commandement d’abord.Aime avant de régner.Aime avant de punir.Aime avant d’avoir tort en chœur.Et quand vous saurez tenir un frère deboutsans lui planter votre vérité dans le cou,alors on reparlera du ciel.J’veux plus vos véritésquand elles arrivent en colonnes et en flammes,j’veux plus vos grands sermonssi l’homme y sort plus petit que vos dogmes.Le sacré sans bontéc’est juste une arme avec de belles phrases,et vos temples trop sûrssentent souvent le feu sous la gaze.Fermez vos gueules.Le premier commandement d’abord.Aime avant de juger.Aime avant de choisir ton camp.Aime avant d’ouvrir la fosse.Et quand vous saurez laisser un enfant dormirsans bénir le canon qui vise son avenir,alors on reparlera du ciel.Je n’ai pas votre carte,mais j’ai vu mieux que vos croisades :des mains, du pain,du silence,des gens qui sauvent sans parade.Alors fermez vos gueules.Le premier commandement ou rien.Pas vos foules.Pas vos chefs.Pas vos morts brandis comme permis.Aime d’abord.Le reste attendra.Et si ton dieu veut parler par ta bouche,qu’il commence par désarmer ton bras.
Fermez vos gueules un peu,rangez vos dieux, vos livres et vos drapeaux,vous criez tous si fortqu’on n’entend même plus les vivants.Vous parlez de lumièreavec du sang collé partout aux mains,vous jurez par l’amouren préparant la guerre du matin.Fermez vos gueules.Le premier commandement d’abord.Aime avant de régner.Aime avant de punir.Aime avant d’avoir tort en chœur.Et quand vous saurez tenir un frère deboutsans lui planter votre vérité dans le cou,alors on reparlera du ciel.J’veux plus vos véritésquand elles arrivent en colonnes et en flammes,j’veux plus vos grands sermonssi l’homme y sort plus petit que vos dogmes.Le sacré sans bontéc’est juste une arme avec de belles phrases,et vos temples trop sûrssentent souvent le feu sous la gaze.Fermez vos gueules.Le premier commandement d’abord.Aime avant de juger.Aime avant de choisir ton camp.Aime avant d’ouvrir la fosse.Et quand vous saurez laisser un enfant dormirsans bénir le canon qui vise son avenir,alors on reparlera du ciel.Je n’ai pas votre carte,mais j’ai vu mieux que vos croisades :des mains, du pain,du silence,des gens qui sauvent sans parade.Alors fermez vos gueules.Le premier commandement ou rien.Pas vos foules.Pas vos chefs.Pas vos morts brandis comme permis.Aime d’abord.Le reste attendra.Et si ton dieu veut parler par ta bouche,qu’il commence par désarmer ton bras.
J’ai vu les drapeaux bouffer la lumière,les vieux dieux repeints sur des missiles neufs,j’ai vu les foules prier pour des frontières,comme si le ciel votait avec les veuves.Moi j’suis d’aucun baptême, d’aucune bannière,j’ai pas la carte, j’ai gardé mes mains,mais je salue ceux qui tiennent la lumièredans ce grand carnaval de couteaux saints.Et j’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,mais pas celui qui rampe et qui s’excuse,j’ai l’blues qui cogne du talon dans la boue,qui dit : “pas en mon nom, pas jusqu’au bout.”J’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,un blues têtu, pas un drapeau qu’on use,si le monde veut marcher vers le trou,moi j’garde une allumette, et j’la plante debout.Les trois cousins s’disputent le tonnerre,et les marchands vendent des cercueils bénis,toujours les mêmes qui grattent la misère,toujours les mêmes qui maquillent l’incendie.Mais dans l’quartier, dans la cuisine, dans l’atelier,y a des croyants plus grands que leurs sermons,des gens modestes qui recousent la paixavec du pain, du café, des prénoms.Et j’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,mais pas celui qui rampe et qui s’excuse,j’ai l’blues qui garde encore un peu d’amour,pour les vivants, les cabossés, les sourds.J’ai l’blues, ouais, j’ai l’blues,un blues de fer sous la flotte et la rouille,si les prophètes veulent vendre leur courroux,moi j’préfère un humain qui tient l’coup.J’crois pas aux foules quand elles parlent en meute,j’crois aux visages, aux silences tenus,à ceux qui ramassent l’espoir dans les émeutes,sans demander quel dieu t’as reconnu.Alors qu’ils gardent leurs tribunes et leurs guerres,leurs vérités cloutées, leurs grands discours,moi j’vais jouer plus bas, plus clair, plus terrestre,avec du vrai, du tremblé, du retour.Ouais j’ai l’blues, mais il regarde devant,pas comme un chien battu, plutôt comme un vivant,et tant qu’il reste une gorge pour dire non,y aura du feu humain dans la chanson.
WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORM'CAUSE...WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINSO...FUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORSFUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORS... REMEMBER:WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACE
WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORM'CAUSE...WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINSO...FUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORSFUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORS... REMEMBER:WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACE
WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORM'CAUSE...WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINSO...FUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORSFUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORS... REMEMBER:WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACE
WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORM'CAUSE...WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINSO...FUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORSFUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORS... REMEMBER:WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACE
WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORM'CAUSE...WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINSO...FUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORSFUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORS... REMEMBER:WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACE
WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORM'CAUSE...WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINSO...FUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORSFUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORS... REMEMBER:WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACE
WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORM'CAUSE...WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINSO...FUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORSFUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORS... REMEMBER:WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACE
WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORMFUCK THE NORM'CAUSE...WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACEBUT...LEADERS LIKE TO LEADWARRIORS LIKE TO KILLBANKERS LIKE THE GREEDPREDATORS LIKE EPSTEINSO...FUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORSFUCK THE LEADERSFUCK THE WARRIORSFUCK THE BANKERSFUCK THE PREDATORS... REMEMBER:WE ARE ALL A MESSIAH FOR OUR PARENTSWE ARE ALL A PROPHET FOR OUR KIDSWE ARE ALL IN ONEWE ARE ALL FOR PEACE
J’ai levé le poing, j’avais vingt piges et des étoiles plein la tête,anti-OMC dans le cœur, sur les murs, sur les dalles.On rêvait d’un monde en partage, d’un futur sans barbelés,et me voilà, quarante-six ans, à regarder le ciel saigner.Les mêmes costards, les mêmes hymnes, le même marché du malheur,et des fous de Dieu qui s’alignent pour bénir la peur.Gueule de bois planétaire, j’la sens dans chaque info,tout le monde crie “vérité”, pendant qu’on fabrique des tombeaux.J’veux plus d’feu qui tombe, plus d’enfants qui se couchent,j’veux du souffle, j’veux des mains, j’veux qu’on rouvre la bouche.Un seul sang, un seul air, on est faits du même sang,et aucun Dieu, aucun drapeau, vaut la vie d’un gamin.Salaam, Shalom—ça suffit, ça suffit,Pax, Shanti—ça suffit, ça suffit.Dans tous les noms qu’on donne au Divin,que la pitié gagne, que la vie tienne bon, enfin,Que renaisse la paix !On m’vend la “guerre propre”, la “frappe chirurgicale”,mais c’est des corps en petits morceaux, c’est des mères en cavale.J’vois des tarés du ciel ensemble, main dans la main, sûrs d’eux,faire une mortadelle humaine au nom d’leurs livres et d’leurs dieux.Ils prêchent l’amour, ils signent la mort, ils font la morale en prime,et moi j’ai l’estomac retourné, j’ai la rage au bord des rimes.J’suis pas saint, j’suis pas juge, j’suis juste un vieux môme grandi,qui sait qu’on perd notre âme quand on s’habitue au bruit.Arrête le tonnerre, baisse les armes,fais taire la foule quand elle réclame.Si tu crois au ciel, commence ici-bas :protège le vivant, c’est tout ce qu’on a.Salaam, Shalom—ça suffit, ça suffit,Pax, Shanti—ça suffit, ça suffit.Dans tous les noms qu’on donne au Divin,que la pitié gagne, que la vie tienne bon, enfin.Que renaisse la paix !
Amazon drones, delivering dreams,While law enforcement shifts to silent schemes.Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Is this the future or just the plan?Will these machines serve or trap the man?Who watches the watchers that hide from sight?The future’s not waiting to be controlled.Will these machines serve or trap the man?Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Steel birds above, they glide and slide.So here we stand, on the edge of the new,With tech that’s watching, but what do we do?Eyes in the sky, they’ll never blink,The future’s arrived—take a breath, and think.Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,
Amazon drones, delivering dreams,While law enforcement shifts to silent schemes.Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Is this the future or just the plan?Will these machines serve or trap the man?Who watches the watchers that hide from sight?The future’s not waiting to be controlled.Will these machines serve or trap the man?Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Steel birds above, they glide and slide.So here we stand, on the edge of the new,With tech that’s watching, but what do we do?Eyes in the sky, they’ll never blink,The future’s arrived—take a breath, and think.Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,
Vos jeux de force s’usent.On ne vous écoute plus.Nos âmes marchent ailleurs,Loin de vos drapeaux brûlés.La paix n’est pas un slogan,C’est juste ce qu’on choisitQuand on refuse vos rôlesEt vos histoires mal écrites.Roi sans peuple,tu joues seul.Nous, on se tait,et tout tremble.Levez les mains, pas les poings !La nuit s’ouvre quand on renonce.Aucun mur n’arrête l’aubeQuand les voix refusent la violence.Allez jouer vos guerres loin d’ici !En Alaska, face à face.On filmera ça en mondovision.Ça fera des abonnements,bande de cons.Le monde se réveilleParce qu’il n’écoute plus.Levez les mains, pas les poings.Le reste s’éteint tout seul.
Athée, chrétien, musulman, juif, même terrain,Respecte tout le quartier, seul t’avances moins bien.Ne tue pas, t’es pas un fauve,Respecte les anciens, eux savent où ça chauffe.Ne vole pas, éloigne les ombres de ton sommeil,L’honnêteté brille quand la nuit te touche.Vis simplement, débarrasse-toi des poids,Trouve ton centre, c’est là que tu te tiens droit.Unité, paix, c’est le signal,On pousse le monde vers un futur normal.Le pouvoir t’appelle ? Laisse-le sonner,Ton âme n’est pas à vendre, point final, c'est classé.Parle vrai, reste pas dans le décor,Ta parole c’est ton nom, et ça vaut plus que l’or.Tiens debout, protège les plus faibles,La vraie force s’écoute, elle n’a rien d’hostile.Reste humble, avance en précision, concision,Les vaillants ne crient pas — ils agissent.Unité, paix, c’est ça qu’on vise,Un monde qui respire, un monde sur lequel on reprend prise.
Athée, chrétien, musulman, juif, même terrain,Respecte tout le quartier, seul t’avances moins bien.Ne tue pas, t’es pas un fauve,Respecte les anciens, eux savent où ça chauffe.Ne vole pas, éloigne les ombres de ton sommeil,L’honnêteté brille quand la nuit te touche.Vis simplement, débarrasse-toi des poids,Trouve ton centre, c’est là que tu te tiens droit.Unité, paix, c’est le signal,On pousse le monde vers un futur normal.Le pouvoir t’appelle ? Laisse-le sonner,Ton âme n’est pas à vendre, point final, c'est classé.Parle vrai, reste pas dans le décor,Ta parole c’est ton nom, et ça vaut plus que l’or.Tiens debout, protège les plus faibles,La vraie force s’écoute, elle n’a rien d’hostile.Reste humble, avance en précision, concision,Les vaillants ne crient pas — ils agissent.Unité, paix, c’est ça qu’on vise,Un monde qui respire, un monde sur lequel on reprend prise.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Du texte pour arracher les illusions, éclipser les faux sauveurs et ramener chacun à sa propre force. Pas un sermon : une mise debout. Un manifeste pour ceux qui arrêtent d’attendre et commencent à faire.
Blue shell, bent backbone.He runs without moving much.Twenty years. Same room.No algorithm.Just coffee rings and cheap mics.Static is his choir.He calls it “solo.”But ghosts sit cross-legged on tape—Hiss keeps them alive.Ragged prophet glare,thrift-store laptop cracked in half,Wi-Fi like a bruise.A barrel-born laughechoes inside bass cabinets:“Burn daylight, not trends.”He builds track by track,brick of snare, mortar of doubt—Cathedral of lo-fi.No sponsors. No sync.Just rent paid in stubbornness.Dust signs every check.Friends sprinted to fame.He jogged in a circle slow—Orbit of one sun.The snare snaps like teeth.He spits verses at the void.Void nods. Says nothing.Pre-AI winter.Ideas had to bleed warm—No prompt held his hand.He edits by ear.Scissors made of insomnia.Tape scars on his thumbs.Twenty-year marathon.Not for medals—just proof thatbreath outlasts applause.Landlord at the door.He hides beats under the bed.Kick drum keeps heartbeat.Forums flame and fade.He stays, snail-slow, spiral-true.Progress leaves a slime.Lantern in daylight—not hunting for honest men,just clean frequencies.Sunglasses at night,3 a.m. manifestostyped into the dark.The world speeds to streams.He burns CDs like prayers—Plastic rosaries.No trending page glow.Only desk-lamp constellationson yellowed notebook.He loses loversto faster men with ring lights.He keeps the drum loop.Twenty winters deep,His beard salted like vinyl dust—Groove carved into bone.Before the machineslearned to finish our sentences,He finished his own.Blue spiral turning.Not racing—refusing rot.Slow is a weapon.Crowd finally gathers.They call him “overnight myth.”He laughs for a week.Marathon complete?No ribbon cuts stubborn air.He presses record.Snail on burning sand.Trail bright as a riot flare.Time cannot outrun him.
Ô Toi, Substance Unique,mère et miroir de toutes choses,dont l’ombre se divise mais dont la lumière demeure Une,fais descendre en nous la paix des éléments réconciliés.Que le Haut réponde au Bas,et que le Bas s’élève au Haut,afin que les deux se reconnaissent dans la même étincelle.Nous présentons le Soufre ardent,force solaire qui sépare et consume.Nous présentons le Mercure clair,souffle lunaire qui unit et apaise.Que le combat s’éteigne,que les deux langages deviennent un seul souffle.Que la Nature, apaisée, retrouve son visage premier.Par la douceur du mariage secret,que les deux Natures se revêtent d’un même esprit.Qu’elles se serrent l’une contre l’autrecomme l’aube épouse la nuitet comme le vent épouse la mer.Qu’il n’y ait plus ni avant ni après,ni haut ni bas,mais un seul cœur vibrant dans la matière sanctifiée.Nous appelons la paix qui relie les sphères,le cercle qui contient les formes,la source qui ne se tarit pas.Car tout est issu d’un unique souffle,et tout retournera vers lui,purifié de ses masques,libéré de ses tempêtes.Que l’Œuvre se déploiecomme une rose qui s’ouvre dans le silence.Que la Lumière intérieurebrûle sans dévorer et éclaire sans aveugler.Ô Unité sans division,accorde-nous de marcher dans ton rythme,de respirer dans ton temps,et d’habiter ton Harmoniecomme un instrument docile entre les mains de la Sagesse.Ainsi soit l’Œuvre.Ainsi soit l’Un.
Ô Toi, Substance Unique,mère et miroir de toutes choses,dont l’ombre se divise mais dont la lumière demeure Une,fais descendre en nous la paix des éléments réconciliés.Que le Haut réponde au Bas,et que le Bas s’élève au Haut,afin que les deux se reconnaissent dans la même étincelle.Nous présentons le Soufre ardent,force solaire qui sépare et consume.Nous présentons le Mercure clair,souffle lunaire qui unit et apaise.Que le combat s’éteigne,que les deux langages deviennent un seul souffle.Que la Nature, apaisée, retrouve son visage premier.Par la douceur du mariage secret,que les deux Natures se revêtent d’un même esprit.Qu’elles se serrent l’une contre l’autrecomme l’aube épouse la nuitet comme le vent épouse la mer.Qu’il n’y ait plus ni avant ni après,ni haut ni bas,mais un seul cœur vibrant dans la matière sanctifiée.Nous appelons la paix qui relie les sphères,le cercle qui contient les formes,la source qui ne se tarit pas.Car tout est issu d’un unique souffle,et tout retournera vers lui,purifié de ses masques,libéré de ses tempêtes.Que l’Œuvre se déploiecomme une rose qui s’ouvre dans le silence.Que la Lumière intérieurebrûle sans dévorer et éclaire sans aveugler.Ô Unité sans division,accorde-nous de marcher dans ton rythme,de respirer dans ton temps,et d’habiter ton Harmoniecomme un instrument docile entre les mains de la Sagesse.Ainsi soit l’Œuvre.Ainsi soit l’Un.
Ô Toi, Substance Unique,mère et miroir de toutes choses,dont l’ombre se divise mais dont la lumière demeure Une,fais descendre en nous la paix des éléments réconciliés.Que le Haut réponde au Bas,et que le Bas s’élève au Haut,afin que les deux se reconnaissent dans la même étincelle.Nous présentons le Soufre ardent,force solaire qui sépare et consume.Nous présentons le Mercure clair,souffle lunaire qui unit et apaise.Que le combat s’éteigne,que les deux langages deviennent un seul souffle.Que la Nature, apaisée, retrouve son visage premier.Par la douceur du mariage secret,que les deux Natures se revêtent d’un même esprit.Qu’elles se serrent l’une contre l’autrecomme l’aube épouse la nuitet comme le vent épouse la mer.Qu’il n’y ait plus ni avant ni après,ni haut ni bas,mais un seul cœur vibrant dans la matière sanctifiée.Nous appelons la paix qui relie les sphères,le cercle qui contient les formes,la source qui ne se tarit pas.Car tout est issu d’un unique souffle,et tout retournera vers lui,purifié de ses masques,libéré de ses tempêtes.Que l’Œuvre se déploiecomme une rose qui s’ouvre dans le silence.Que la Lumière intérieurebrûle sans dévorer et éclaire sans aveugler.Ô Unité sans division,accorde-nous de marcher dans ton rythme,de respirer dans ton temps,et d’habiter ton Harmoniecomme un instrument docile entre les mains de la Sagesse.Ainsi soit l’Œuvre.Ainsi soit l’Un.
Ô Toi, Substance Unique,mère et miroir de toutes choses,dont l’ombre se divise mais dont la lumière demeure Une,fais descendre en nous la paix des éléments réconciliés.Que le Haut réponde au Bas,et que le Bas s’élève au Haut,afin que les deux se reconnaissent dans la même étincelle.Nous présentons le Soufre ardent,force solaire qui sépare et consume.Nous présentons le Mercure clair,souffle lunaire qui unit et apaise.Que le combat s’éteigne,que les deux langages deviennent un seul souffle.Que la Nature, apaisée, retrouve son visage premier.Par la douceur du mariage secret,que les deux Natures se revêtent d’un même esprit.Qu’elles se serrent l’une contre l’autrecomme l’aube épouse la nuitet comme le vent épouse la mer.Qu’il n’y ait plus ni avant ni après,ni haut ni bas,mais un seul cœur vibrant dans la matière sanctifiée.Nous appelons la paix qui relie les sphères,le cercle qui contient les formes,la source qui ne se tarit pas.Car tout est issu d’un unique souffle,et tout retournera vers lui,purifié de ses masques,libéré de ses tempêtes.Que l’Œuvre se déploiecomme une rose qui s’ouvre dans le silence.Que la Lumière intérieurebrûle sans dévorer et éclaire sans aveugler.Ô Unité sans division,accorde-nous de marcher dans ton rythme,de respirer dans ton temps,et d’habiter ton Harmoniecomme un instrument docile entre les mains de la Sagesse.Ainsi soit l’Œuvre.Ainsi soit l’Un.
.Davos 2026, le mec lâche la vérité :Le monde à règles fixes ? Enterré.Trois minutes pour capter que le système s’est cassé,Qu’on a troqué la justice pour du pouvoir concentré.Trois minutes, gamin, pour piger que les vieux rois tombent,Et que demain se construira si on se relève ensemble.Maintenant, c’est multipolaire, c’est complexe,C’est pas Marvel, c’est la vie, y’a pas de héros dans le texte.On survit grâce à l’autre, pas contre lui.Le futur, c’est ensemble ou c’est l’ennui infini.Alors écoute :Ton monde commence où le leur s’achève,On te laisse un système qui bégaie, qui crève.Mais t’as un truc qu’ils n’avaient pas :La lucidité brutale.Et trois minutes pour changer l’histoire,Avant que ça parte en cavale.
.Davos 2026, le mec lâche la vérité :Le monde à règles fixes ? Enterré.Trois minutes pour capter que le système s’est cassé,Qu’on a troqué la justice pour du pouvoir concentré.Trois minutes, gamin, pour piger que les vieux rois tombent,Et que demain se construira si on se relève ensemble.Maintenant, c’est multipolaire, c’est complexe,C’est pas Marvel, c’est la vie, y’a pas de héros dans le texte.On survit grâce à l’autre, pas contre lui.Le futur, c’est ensemble ou c’est l’ennui infini.Alors écoute :Ton monde commence où le leur s’achève,On te laisse un système qui bégaie, qui crève.Mais t’as un truc qu’ils n’avaient pas :La lucidité brutale.Et trois minutes pour changer l’histoire,Avant que ça parte en cavale.
.Davos 2026, le mec lâche la vérité :Le monde à règles fixes ? Enterré.Trois minutes pour capter que le système s’est cassé,Qu’on a troqué la justice pour du pouvoir concentré.Trois minutes, gamin, pour piger que les vieux rois tombent,Et que demain se construira si on se relève ensemble.Maintenant, c’est multipolaire, c’est complexe,C’est pas Marvel, c’est la vie, y’a pas de héros dans le texte.On survit grâce à l’autre, pas contre lui.Le futur, c’est ensemble ou c’est l’ennui infini.Alors écoute :Ton monde commence où le leur s’achève,On te laisse un système qui bégaie, qui crève.Mais t’as un truc qu’ils n’avaient pas :La lucidité brutale.Et trois minutes pour changer l’histoire,Avant que ça parte en cavale.
.Davos 2026, le mec lâche la vérité :Le monde à règles fixes ? Enterré.Trois minutes pour capter que le système s’est cassé,Qu’on a troqué la justice pour du pouvoir concentré.Trois minutes, gamin, pour piger que les vieux rois tombent,Et que demain se construira si on se relève ensemble.Maintenant, c’est multipolaire, c’est complexe,C’est pas Marvel, c’est la vie, y’a pas de héros dans le texte.On survit grâce à l’autre, pas contre lui.Le futur, c’est ensemble ou c’est l’ennui infini.Alors écoute :Ton monde commence où le leur s’achève,On te laisse un système qui bégaie, qui crève.Mais t’as un truc qu’ils n’avaient pas :La lucidité brutale.Et trois minutes pour changer l’histoire,Avant que ça parte en cavale.
Leg dein Display weg, armer Geist: Dein Daumen sitzt im Käfig,Februar zweitausendsechsundzwanzig: gleiche Luft, gleiches Gift.Es riecht nach heißem Plastik, nach Niederlage im Anzug,und du umarmst eine Fahne, als wär sie Schutz in der Wucht.Du glaubst an Papiergrenzen, an Mauern gegen die Flut,doch diese Krise hat Zähne—sie beißt sich fest in dein Blut.Man versprach uns die Häutung, die Läuterung, den großen Schnitt,wir ernten ein Raubtier aus Code, das rechnet und lächelt im Tritt.Schumpeter als Ikone, wir warteten auf den Sieger,doch seine „Schöpfung“ lässt Leere zurück und macht Herzen kälter.Kondratieff ist gekippt: keine Welle, kein Aufschwung im Raum,ein Virus aus Metall, der die Welt frisst wie ein Traum.Du schreist „Souverän!“ laut, willst Türen hart verriegeln,doch Kriege gewinnt man in Mengen, die man dir billig spiegelt.Deflation geht durch dich hindurch—ohne Visum, ohne Lärm,und dein Lohn wird zu Staub, Stück für Stück, in deiner Hand.Während ihr „rein“ spielt, „wahrer“, „mehr europäisch“ im Chor,kaufen andere Minen und Zukunft—das Land, das Tor.Seltene Erden, die Nerven der Zeit, unsichtbare Kronen,und du verkaufst deine Stunden an Mythen in grellen Ikonen.Wir tauschten die Bücher gegen Zahlen, kalt, ohne Haut,Smith, Marx und Keynes im Rauch, das Denken verstummt, kaum erlaubt.Fürsten in Glastürmen regieren im Tabellenlicht,sie zählen kalte Zeilen—und sehen die Menschen nicht.Man nahm dir den Grund: du trittst auf Parolen wie Glas,die Händler der Angst verkaufen dir gestern als Spaß.Demografischer Winter: du gießt Beton zu Wänden,doch keine Mauer hält Kurven, die Tage, die Enden.Zwei Millionen verdampfen—und du forderst Barrieren,wo wir echtes Band bräuchten: Sinn, Nähe, Reparieren.Der Kampf ist nicht „die“ gegen „wir“ auf dem Platz,es ist Wirklichkeit gegen Bildschirm, Leben gegen Ersatz.Wenn Angst den Stift führt und das Gesetz schreibt wie ein Plan,bist du am Ende nur Spalte—kein Mensch mehr, nur Zahl im Kram.
Leg dein Display weg, armer Geist: Dein Daumen sitzt im Käfig,Februar zweitausendsechsundzwanzig: gleiche Luft, gleiches Gift.Es riecht nach heißem Plastik, nach Niederlage im Anzug,und du umarmst eine Fahne, als wär sie Schutz in der Wucht.Du glaubst an Papiergrenzen, an Mauern gegen die Flut,doch diese Krise hat Zähne—sie beißt sich fest in dein Blut.Man versprach uns die Häutung, die Läuterung, den großen Schnitt,wir ernten ein Raubtier aus Code, das rechnet und lächelt im Tritt.Schumpeter als Ikone, wir warteten auf den Sieger,doch seine „Schöpfung“ lässt Leere zurück und macht Herzen kälter.Kondratieff ist gekippt: keine Welle, kein Aufschwung im Raum,ein Virus aus Metall, der die Welt frisst wie ein Traum.Du schreist „Souverän!“ laut, willst Türen hart verriegeln,doch Kriege gewinnt man in Mengen, die man dir billig spiegelt.Deflation geht durch dich hindurch—ohne Visum, ohne Lärm,und dein Lohn wird zu Staub, Stück für Stück, in deiner Hand.Während ihr „rein“ spielt, „wahrer“, „mehr europäisch“ im Chor,kaufen andere Minen und Zukunft—das Land, das Tor.Seltene Erden, die Nerven der Zeit, unsichtbare Kronen,und du verkaufst deine Stunden an Mythen in grellen Ikonen.Wir tauschten die Bücher gegen Zahlen, kalt, ohne Haut,Smith, Marx und Keynes im Rauch, das Denken verstummt, kaum erlaubt.Fürsten in Glastürmen regieren im Tabellenlicht,sie zählen kalte Zeilen—und sehen die Menschen nicht.Man nahm dir den Grund: du trittst auf Parolen wie Glas,die Händler der Angst verkaufen dir gestern als Spaß.Demografischer Winter: du gießt Beton zu Wänden,doch keine Mauer hält Kurven, die Tage, die Enden.Zwei Millionen verdampfen—und du forderst Barrieren,wo wir echtes Band bräuchten: Sinn, Nähe, Reparieren.Der Kampf ist nicht „die“ gegen „wir“ auf dem Platz,es ist Wirklichkeit gegen Bildschirm, Leben gegen Ersatz.Wenn Angst den Stift führt und das Gesetz schreibt wie ein Plan,bist du am Ende nur Spalte—kein Mensch mehr, nur Zahl im Kram.
Leg dein Display weg, armer Geist: Dein Daumen sitzt im Käfig,Februar zweitausendsechsundzwanzig: gleiche Luft, gleiches Gift.Es riecht nach heißem Plastik, nach Niederlage im Anzug,und du umarmst eine Fahne, als wär sie Schutz in der Wucht.Du glaubst an Papiergrenzen, an Mauern gegen die Flut,doch diese Krise hat Zähne—sie beißt sich fest in dein Blut.Man versprach uns die Häutung, die Läuterung, den großen Schnitt,wir ernten ein Raubtier aus Code, das rechnet und lächelt im Tritt.Schumpeter als Ikone, wir warteten auf den Sieger,doch seine „Schöpfung“ lässt Leere zurück und macht Herzen kälter.Kondratieff ist gekippt: keine Welle, kein Aufschwung im Raum,ein Virus aus Metall, der die Welt frisst wie ein Traum.Du schreist „Souverän!“ laut, willst Türen hart verriegeln,doch Kriege gewinnt man in Mengen, die man dir billig spiegelt.Deflation geht durch dich hindurch—ohne Visum, ohne Lärm,und dein Lohn wird zu Staub, Stück für Stück, in deiner Hand.Während ihr „rein“ spielt, „wahrer“, „mehr europäisch“ im Chor,kaufen andere Minen und Zukunft—das Land, das Tor.Seltene Erden, die Nerven der Zeit, unsichtbare Kronen,und du verkaufst deine Stunden an Mythen in grellen Ikonen.Wir tauschten die Bücher gegen Zahlen, kalt, ohne Haut,Smith, Marx und Keynes im Rauch, das Denken verstummt, kaum erlaubt.Fürsten in Glastürmen regieren im Tabellenlicht,sie zählen kalte Zeilen—und sehen die Menschen nicht.Man nahm dir den Grund: du trittst auf Parolen wie Glas,die Händler der Angst verkaufen dir gestern als Spaß.Demografischer Winter: du gießt Beton zu Wänden,doch keine Mauer hält Kurven, die Tage, die Enden.Zwei Millionen verdampfen—und du forderst Barrieren,wo wir echtes Band bräuchten: Sinn, Nähe, Reparieren.Der Kampf ist nicht „die“ gegen „wir“ auf dem Platz,es ist Wirklichkeit gegen Bildschirm, Leben gegen Ersatz.Wenn Angst den Stift führt und das Gesetz schreibt wie ein Plan,bist du am Ende nur Spalte—kein Mensch mehr, nur Zahl im Kram.
Leg dein Display weg, armer Geist: Dein Daumen sitzt im Käfig,Februar zweitausendsechsundzwanzig: gleiche Luft, gleiches Gift.Es riecht nach heißem Plastik, nach Niederlage im Anzug,und du umarmst eine Fahne, als wär sie Schutz in der Wucht.Du glaubst an Papiergrenzen, an Mauern gegen die Flut,doch diese Krise hat Zähne—sie beißt sich fest in dein Blut.Man versprach uns die Häutung, die Läuterung, den großen Schnitt,wir ernten ein Raubtier aus Code, das rechnet und lächelt im Tritt.Schumpeter als Ikone, wir warteten auf den Sieger,doch seine „Schöpfung“ lässt Leere zurück und macht Herzen kälter.Kondratieff ist gekippt: keine Welle, kein Aufschwung im Raum,ein Virus aus Metall, der die Welt frisst wie ein Traum.Du schreist „Souverän!“ laut, willst Türen hart verriegeln,doch Kriege gewinnt man in Mengen, die man dir billig spiegelt.Deflation geht durch dich hindurch—ohne Visum, ohne Lärm,und dein Lohn wird zu Staub, Stück für Stück, in deiner Hand.Während ihr „rein“ spielt, „wahrer“, „mehr europäisch“ im Chor,kaufen andere Minen und Zukunft—das Land, das Tor.Seltene Erden, die Nerven der Zeit, unsichtbare Kronen,und du verkaufst deine Stunden an Mythen in grellen Ikonen.Wir tauschten die Bücher gegen Zahlen, kalt, ohne Haut,Smith, Marx und Keynes im Rauch, das Denken verstummt, kaum erlaubt.Fürsten in Glastürmen regieren im Tabellenlicht,sie zählen kalte Zeilen—und sehen die Menschen nicht.Man nahm dir den Grund: du trittst auf Parolen wie Glas,die Händler der Angst verkaufen dir gestern als Spaß.Demografischer Winter: du gießt Beton zu Wänden,doch keine Mauer hält Kurven, die Tage, die Enden.Zwei Millionen verdampfen—und du forderst Barrieren,wo wir echtes Band bräuchten: Sinn, Nähe, Reparieren.Der Kampf ist nicht „die“ gegen „wir“ auf dem Platz,es ist Wirklichkeit gegen Bildschirm, Leben gegen Ersatz.Wenn Angst den Stift führt und das Gesetz schreibt wie ein Plan,bist du am Ende nur Spalte—kein Mensch mehr, nur Zahl im Kram.
Leg dein Display weg, armer Geist: Dein Daumen sitzt im Käfig,Februar zweitausendsechsundzwanzig: gleiche Luft, gleiches Gift.Es riecht nach heißem Plastik, nach Niederlage im Anzug,und du umarmst eine Fahne, als wär sie Schutz in der Wucht.Du glaubst an Papiergrenzen, an Mauern gegen die Flut,doch diese Krise hat Zähne—sie beißt sich fest in dein Blut.Man versprach uns die Häutung, die Läuterung, den großen Schnitt,wir ernten ein Raubtier aus Code, das rechnet und lächelt im Tritt.Schumpeter als Ikone, wir warteten auf den Sieger,doch seine „Schöpfung“ lässt Leere zurück und macht Herzen kälter.Kondratieff ist gekippt: keine Welle, kein Aufschwung im Raum,ein Virus aus Metall, der die Welt frisst wie ein Traum.Du schreist „Souverän!“ laut, willst Türen hart verriegeln,doch Kriege gewinnt man in Mengen, die man dir billig spiegelt.Deflation geht durch dich hindurch—ohne Visum, ohne Lärm,und dein Lohn wird zu Staub, Stück für Stück, in deiner Hand.Während ihr „rein“ spielt, „wahrer“, „mehr europäisch“ im Chor,kaufen andere Minen und Zukunft—das Land, das Tor.Seltene Erden, die Nerven der Zeit, unsichtbare Kronen,und du verkaufst deine Stunden an Mythen in grellen Ikonen.Wir tauschten die Bücher gegen Zahlen, kalt, ohne Haut,Smith, Marx und Keynes im Rauch, das Denken verstummt, kaum erlaubt.Fürsten in Glastürmen regieren im Tabellenlicht,sie zählen kalte Zeilen—und sehen die Menschen nicht.Man nahm dir den Grund: du trittst auf Parolen wie Glas,die Händler der Angst verkaufen dir gestern als Spaß.Demografischer Winter: du gießt Beton zu Wänden,doch keine Mauer hält Kurven, die Tage, die Enden.Zwei Millionen verdampfen—und du forderst Barrieren,wo wir echtes Band bräuchten: Sinn, Nähe, Reparieren.Der Kampf ist nicht „die“ gegen „wir“ auf dem Platz,es ist Wirklichkeit gegen Bildschirm, Leben gegen Ersatz.Wenn Angst den Stift führt und das Gesetz schreibt wie ein Plan,bist du am Ende nur Spalte—kein Mensch mehr, nur Zahl im Kram.
Leg dein Display weg, armer Geist: Dein Daumen sitzt im Käfig,Februar zweitausendsechsundzwanzig: gleiche Luft, gleiches Gift.Es riecht nach heißem Plastik, nach Niederlage im Anzug,und du umarmst eine Fahne, als wär sie Schutz in der Wucht.Du glaubst an Papiergrenzen, an Mauern gegen die Flut,doch diese Krise hat Zähne—sie beißt sich fest in dein Blut.Man versprach uns die Häutung, die Läuterung, den großen Schnitt,wir ernten ein Raubtier aus Code, das rechnet und lächelt im Tritt.Schumpeter als Ikone, wir warteten auf den Sieger,doch seine „Schöpfung“ lässt Leere zurück und macht Herzen kälter.Kondratieff ist gekippt: keine Welle, kein Aufschwung im Raum,ein Virus aus Metall, der die Welt frisst wie ein Traum.Du schreist „Souverän!“ laut, willst Türen hart verriegeln,doch Kriege gewinnt man in Mengen, die man dir billig spiegelt.Deflation geht durch dich hindurch—ohne Visum, ohne Lärm,und dein Lohn wird zu Staub, Stück für Stück, in deiner Hand.Während ihr „rein“ spielt, „wahrer“, „mehr europäisch“ im Chor,kaufen andere Minen und Zukunft—das Land, das Tor.Seltene Erden, die Nerven der Zeit, unsichtbare Kronen,und du verkaufst deine Stunden an Mythen in grellen Ikonen.Wir tauschten die Bücher gegen Zahlen, kalt, ohne Haut,Smith, Marx und Keynes im Rauch, das Denken verstummt, kaum erlaubt.Fürsten in Glastürmen regieren im Tabellenlicht,sie zählen kalte Zeilen—und sehen die Menschen nicht.Man nahm dir den Grund: du trittst auf Parolen wie Glas,die Händler der Angst verkaufen dir gestern als Spaß.Demografischer Winter: du gießt Beton zu Wänden,doch keine Mauer hält Kurven, die Tage, die Enden.Zwei Millionen verdampfen—und du forderst Barrieren,wo wir echtes Band bräuchten: Sinn, Nähe, Reparieren.Der Kampf ist nicht „die“ gegen „wir“ auf dem Platz,es ist Wirklichkeit gegen Bildschirm, Leben gegen Ersatz.Wenn Angst den Stift führt und das Gesetz schreibt wie ein Plan,bist du am Ende nur Spalte—kein Mensch mehr, nur Zahl im Kram.
Leg dein Display weg, armer Geist: Dein Daumen sitzt im Käfig,Februar zweitausendsechsundzwanzig: gleiche Luft, gleiches Gift.Es riecht nach heißem Plastik, nach Niederlage im Anzug,und du umarmst eine Fahne, als wär sie Schutz in der Wucht.Du glaubst an Papiergrenzen, an Mauern gegen die Flut,doch diese Krise hat Zähne—sie beißt sich fest in dein Blut.Man versprach uns die Häutung, die Läuterung, den großen Schnitt,wir ernten ein Raubtier aus Code, das rechnet und lächelt im Tritt.Schumpeter als Ikone, wir warteten auf den Sieger,doch seine „Schöpfung“ lässt Leere zurück und macht Herzen kälter.Kondratieff ist gekippt: keine Welle, kein Aufschwung im Raum,ein Virus aus Metall, der die Welt frisst wie ein Traum.Du schreist „Souverän!“ laut, willst Türen hart verriegeln,doch Kriege gewinnt man in Mengen, die man dir billig spiegelt.Deflation geht durch dich hindurch—ohne Visum, ohne Lärm,und dein Lohn wird zu Staub, Stück für Stück, in deiner Hand.Während ihr „rein“ spielt, „wahrer“, „mehr europäisch“ im Chor,kaufen andere Minen und Zukunft—das Land, das Tor.Seltene Erden, die Nerven der Zeit, unsichtbare Kronen,und du verkaufst deine Stunden an Mythen in grellen Ikonen.Wir tauschten die Bücher gegen Zahlen, kalt, ohne Haut,Smith, Marx und Keynes im Rauch, das Denken verstummt, kaum erlaubt.Fürsten in Glastürmen regieren im Tabellenlicht,sie zählen kalte Zeilen—und sehen die Menschen nicht.Man nahm dir den Grund: du trittst auf Parolen wie Glas,die Händler der Angst verkaufen dir gestern als Spaß.Demografischer Winter: du gießt Beton zu Wänden,doch keine Mauer hält Kurven, die Tage, die Enden.Zwei Millionen verdampfen—und du forderst Barrieren,wo wir echtes Band bräuchten: Sinn, Nähe, Reparieren.Der Kampf ist nicht „die“ gegen „wir“ auf dem Platz,es ist Wirklichkeit gegen Bildschirm, Leben gegen Ersatz.Wenn Angst den Stift führt und das Gesetz schreibt wie ein Plan,bist du am Ende nur Spalte—kein Mensch mehr, nur Zahl im Kram.
Europe, février 2026. Pendant que vous vous noyez dans vos écrans et agitez des drapeaux comme des talismans, le sixième cycle de Kondratieff s’est transformé en bête cybernétique dopée à l’IA et à la puissance industrielle chinoise ; la souveraineté version talk-show est une farce quand Pékin verrouille les terres rares et exporte sa déflation, que l’Europe s’enlise dans son piège de moyenne technologie et sous-investit pendant que les USA et la Chine raflent l’innovation, et que le nationalisme sert d’analgésique à une sous-éducation économique crasse ; soit on continue le chacun-pour-soi vers une guerre de pénurie, soit on fait un vrai saut intégré — union des capitaux, fin des vétos paralysants, alliance stratégique avec le Sud global — pour devenir une puissance décarbonée et intelligente.Le commerce sans puissance est une cible.La vérité, avant de libérer, met une claque.
Europe, février 2026. Pendant que vous vous noyez dans vos écrans et agitez des drapeaux comme des talismans, le sixième cycle de Kondratieff s’est transformé en bête cybernétique dopée à l’IA et à la puissance industrielle chinoise ; la souveraineté version talk-show est une farce quand Pékin verrouille les terres rares et exporte sa déflation, que l’Europe s’enlise dans son piège de moyenne technologie et sous-investit pendant que les USA et la Chine raflent l’innovation, et que le nationalisme sert d’analgésique à une sous-éducation économique crasse ; soit on continue le chacun-pour-soi vers une guerre de pénurie, soit on fait un vrai saut intégré — union des capitaux, fin des vétos paralysants, alliance stratégique avec le Sud global — pour devenir une puissance décarbonée et intelligente.Le commerce sans puissance est une cible.La vérité, avant de libérer, met une claque.
Europe, février 2026. Pendant que vous vous noyez dans vos écrans et agitez des drapeaux comme des talismans, le sixième cycle de Kondratieff s’est transformé en bête cybernétique dopée à l’IA et à la puissance industrielle chinoise ; la souveraineté version talk-show est une farce quand Pékin verrouille les terres rares et exporte sa déflation, que l’Europe s’enlise dans son piège de moyenne technologie et sous-investit pendant que les USA et la Chine raflent l’innovation, et que le nationalisme sert d’analgésique à une sous-éducation économique crasse ; soit on continue le chacun-pour-soi vers une guerre de pénurie, soit on fait un vrai saut intégré — union des capitaux, fin des vétos paralysants, alliance stratégique avec le Sud global — pour devenir une puissance décarbonée et intelligente.Le commerce sans puissance est une cible.La vérité, avant de libérer, met une claque.
Europe, février 2026. Pendant que vous vous noyez dans vos écrans et agitez des drapeaux comme des talismans, le sixième cycle de Kondratieff s’est transformé en bête cybernétique dopée à l’IA et à la puissance industrielle chinoise ; la souveraineté version talk-show est une farce quand Pékin verrouille les terres rares et exporte sa déflation, que l’Europe s’enlise dans son piège de moyenne technologie et sous-investit pendant que les USA et la Chine raflent l’innovation, et que le nationalisme sert d’analgésique à une sous-éducation économique crasse ; soit on continue le chacun-pour-soi vers une guerre de pénurie, soit on fait un vrai saut intégré — union des capitaux, fin des vétos paralysants, alliance stratégique avec le Sud global — pour devenir une puissance décarbonée et intelligente.Le commerce sans puissance est une cible.La vérité, avant de libérer, met une claque.
Europe, février 2026. Pendant que vous vous noyez dans vos écrans et agitez des drapeaux comme des talismans, le sixième cycle de Kondratieff s’est transformé en bête cybernétique dopée à l’IA et à la puissance industrielle chinoise ; la souveraineté version talk-show est une farce quand Pékin verrouille les terres rares et exporte sa déflation, que l’Europe s’enlise dans son piège de moyenne technologie et sous-investit pendant que les USA et la Chine raflent l’innovation, et que le nationalisme sert d’analgésique à une sous-éducation économique crasse ; soit on continue le chacun-pour-soi vers une guerre de pénurie, soit on fait un vrai saut intégré — union des capitaux, fin des vétos paralysants, alliance stratégique avec le Sud global — pour devenir une puissance décarbonée et intelligente.Le commerce sans puissance est une cible.La vérité, avant de libérer, met une claque.
Europe, février 2026. Pendant que vous vous noyez dans vos écrans et agitez des drapeaux comme des talismans, le sixième cycle de Kondratieff s’est transformé en bête cybernétique dopée à l’IA et à la puissance industrielle chinoise ; la souveraineté version talk-show est une farce quand Pékin verrouille les terres rares et exporte sa déflation, que l’Europe s’enlise dans son piège de moyenne technologie et sous-investit pendant que les USA et la Chine raflent l’innovation, et que le nationalisme sert d’analgésique à une sous-éducation économique crasse ; soit on continue le chacun-pour-soi vers une guerre de pénurie, soit on fait un vrai saut intégré — union des capitaux, fin des vétos paralysants, alliance stratégique avec le Sud global — pour devenir une puissance décarbonée et intelligente.Le commerce sans puissance est une cible.La vérité, avant de libérer, met une claque.
Europe, février 2026. Pendant que vous vous noyez dans vos écrans et agitez des drapeaux comme des talismans, le sixième cycle de Kondratieff s’est transformé en bête cybernétique dopée à l’IA et à la puissance industrielle chinoise ; la souveraineté version talk-show est une farce quand Pékin verrouille les terres rares et exporte sa déflation, que l’Europe s’enlise dans son piège de moyenne technologie et sous-investit pendant que les USA et la Chine raflent l’innovation, et que le nationalisme sert d’analgésique à une sous-éducation économique crasse ; soit on continue le chacun-pour-soi vers une guerre de pénurie, soit on fait un vrai saut intégré — union des capitaux, fin des vétos paralysants, alliance stratégique avec le Sud global — pour devenir une puissance décarbonée et intelligente.Le commerce sans puissance est une cible.La vérité, avant de libérer, met une claque.
Leg dein Display weg, armer Geist: Dein Daumen sitzt im Käfig,Februar zweitausendsechsundzwanzig: gleiche Luft, gleiches Gift.Es riecht nach heißem Plastik, nach Niederlage im Anzug,und du umarmst eine Fahne, als wär sie Schutz in der Wucht.Du glaubst an Papiergrenzen, an Mauern gegen die Flut,doch diese Krise hat Zähne—sie beißt sich fest in dein Blut.Man versprach uns die Häutung, die Läuterung, den großen Schnitt,wir ernten ein Raubtier aus Code, das rechnet und lächelt im Tritt.Schumpeter als Ikone, wir warteten auf den Sieger,doch seine „Schöpfung“ lässt Leere zurück und macht Herzen kälter.Kondratieff ist gekippt: keine Welle, kein Aufschwung im Raum,ein Virus aus Metall, der die Welt frisst wie ein Traum.Du schreist „Souverän!“ laut, willst Türen hart verriegeln,doch Kriege gewinnt man in Mengen, die man dir billig spiegelt.Deflation geht durch dich hindurch—ohne Visum, ohne Lärm,und dein Lohn wird zu Staub, Stück für Stück, in deiner Hand.Während ihr „rein“ spielt, „wahrer“, „mehr europäisch“ im Chor,kaufen andere Minen und Zukunft—das Land, das Tor.Seltene Erden, die Nerven der Zeit, unsichtbare Kronen,und du verkaufst deine Stunden an Mythen in grellen Ikonen.Wir tauschten die Bücher gegen Zahlen, kalt, ohne Haut,Smith, Marx und Keynes im Rauch, das Denken verstummt, kaum erlaubt.Fürsten in Glastürmen regieren im Tabellenlicht,sie zählen kalte Zeilen—und sehen die Menschen nicht.Man nahm dir den Grund: du trittst auf Parolen wie Glas,die Händler der Angst verkaufen dir gestern als Spaß.Demografischer Winter: du gießt Beton zu Wänden,doch keine Mauer hält Kurven, die Tage, die Enden.Zwei Millionen verdampfen—und du forderst Barrieren,wo wir echtes Band bräuchten: Sinn, Nähe, Reparieren.Der Kampf ist nicht „die“ gegen „wir“ auf dem Platz,es ist Wirklichkeit gegen Bildschirm, Leben gegen Ersatz.Wenn Angst den Stift führt und das Gesetz schreibt wie ein Plan,bist du am Ende nur Spalte—kein Mensch mehr, nur Zahl im Kram.
la force, c’est d’empêcher la guerre—pas de la gagner.---On n’est pas nés pour servir de décor aux canons,ni pour finir en silence dans le chiffre des bilans.On nous vend la guerre “propre” sur des écrans propres,mais le sang ne se filtre pas, il colle à l’époque.Ils te parlent d’honneur, de patrie, de drapeau,quand eux signent au chaud, loin des cris, loin des os.Ils envoient les enfants, ils gardent les actions,ils appellent ça “mission”, moi j’appelle ça rançon.Pas de gloire dans la boue, pas de paix sous l’acier,la guerre c’est le business des lâches bien habillés.On ne meurt pas héros, on meurt surtout utileà des rois sans courage et des comptes trop tranquilles.Ils veulent ta colère, ils veulent ton camp, ton clan,ils te dressent à haïr sans même savoir pourquoi.Ils te disent “ennemi” pour éviter “profit”,ils te donnent un fusil pour te voler l’esprit.Et quand ça brûle enfin, ils jouent les grands stratèges,mais la vraie stratégie c’est d’éteindre l’incendie.La bravoure aujourd’hui c’est refuser la meute,c’est protéger les vivants, pas venger les orgueils.Pas de gloire dans la boue, pas de paix sous l’acier,la guerre c’est le business des lâches bien habillés.On ne meurt pas héros, on meurt surtout utileà des rois sans courage et des comptes trop tranquilles.Je veux des mains ouvertes, pas des mains sur la gâchette,des ponts entre les langues, pas des fosses en cachette.Qu’ils gardent leurs médailles, leurs discours, leurs trompettes :ma victoire c’est un gosse qui rentre entier chez lui, tête haute, fête.On n’a pas besoin de haine pour être debout,on a besoin de justice, de pain, de soin, de nous.Le vrai courage, c’est dire non quand tout le monde crie oui,et tenir la paix ferme comme une promesse qui vit.Si tu veux un hymne, retiens la vérité :la force, c’est d’empêcher la guerre—pas de la gagner.
Depois da tempestade, ouvi o povo a respirar,Nos caminhos de Leiria, vi coragem a caminhar.O vento leva o medo, mas deixa o coração,E o silêncio da chuva fala mais que a razão.Ó meu Portugal profundo,Terra que abraça o mundo,No teu peito encontreiA luz que eu já não sei.Força de quem cai e fica,Beleza que nunca explica,Ó meu Portugal, meu bem,És humanidade também.Vi uma mão dar abrigo, sem nada perguntar,Um olhar cheio de verdade, um jeito de confortar.Nesse gesto tão simples, vi o fado a renascer,E a alma portuguesa a ensinar-me a viver.Ó meu Portugal profundo,Terra que abraça o mundo,No teu peito encontreiA luz que eu já não sei.Força de quem cai e fica,Beleza que nunca explica,Ó meu Portugal, meu bem,És humanidade também.E quando o céu se abre,E a noite quer passar,É o vosso amor tão claroQue me volta a levantar.Ó meu Portugal profundo…No teu peito encontrei…Força de quem cai e fica…Ó meu Portugal, meu bem…
Remixing https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/making-money-eats-your-time---We weren’t born to fill in boxesWe were born to break the rulesTo meet, to drift, to reinventNot rot inside fluorescent tombsAfter rest comes desireNot orders, not fearTake the whip off human backsAnd watch them move from joy, not tearsI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationA world that risks livingInstead of renting respirationI want the right to lazinessAs a political strikeIf life is a gameThen I play for real No alibiWork if you want.Create if you can.But never again call itThe only way to be human.
They sold us work like it was virtueA golden leash, a smiling cageEight hours a day to earn the rightTo not disappear, to not feel shameThey say “dignity”, they say “value”I see bodies breaking downWork never saved a single soulIt just taught us how to drownWe don’t lack effortWe lack lifeWe don’t lack courageWe lack the nerve to cut the knifeI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationBurn the clocksDance on the spreadsheetsI want the right to lazinessNo guilt, no excuseCreate, love, playOr die — but not working for abuseThe left repaints the chains in redThe right just polishes them goldManagers count our minutesUnions bargain how we’re soldEveryone agrees on one thingSell your time or fade awayThey argue over price and hoursNever question why we payMarx wanted new mastersBosses want your mind on leaseI say burn the fucking factoryLet’s see who we are without keysThey call it “reality”I call it organized decayA world that confuses survivalWith being alive every dayI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationBurn the clocksDance on the spreadsheetsI want the right to lazinessNo guilt, no excuseCreate, love, playOr die — but not working for abuseAm I joking?Yeah.Because laughter cuts deeper than knives.Am I serious?Completely.Because work is killing us politely.Play is not passivity.It’s action without masters.Creation without permission.Life without a stopwatch.We weren’t born to fill in boxesWe were born to break the rulesTo meet, to drift, to reinventNot rot inside fluorescent tombsAfter rest comes desireNot orders, not fearTake the whip off human backsAnd watch them move from joy, not tearsI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationA world that risks livingInstead of renting respirationI want the right to lazinessAs a political strikeIf life is a gameThen I play for real — no alibiWork if you want.Create if you can.But never again call itThe only way to be human.
They sold us work like it was virtueA golden leash, a smiling cageEight hours a day to earn the rightTo not disappear, to not feel shameThey say “dignity”, they say “value”I see bodies breaking downWork never saved a single soulIt just taught us how to drownWe don’t lack effortWe lack lifeWe don’t lack courageWe lack the nerve to cut the knifeI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationBurn the clocksDance on the spreadsheetsI want the right to lazinessNo guilt, no excuseCreate, love, playOr die — but not working for abuseThe left repaints the chains in redThe right just polishes them goldManagers count our minutesUnions bargain how we’re soldEveryone agrees on one thingSell your time or fade awayThey argue over price and hoursNever question why we payMarx wanted new mastersBosses want your mind on leaseI say burn the fucking factoryLet’s see who we are without keysThey call it “reality”I call it organized decayA world that confuses survivalWith being alive every dayI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationBurn the clocksDance on the spreadsheetsI want the right to lazinessNo guilt, no excuseCreate, love, playOr die — but not working for abuseAm I joking?Yeah.Because laughter cuts deeper than knives.Am I serious?Completely.Because work is killing us politely.Play is not passivity.It’s action without masters.Creation without permission.Life without a stopwatch.We weren’t born to fill in boxesWe were born to break the rulesTo meet, to drift, to reinventNot rot inside fluorescent tombsAfter rest comes desireNot orders, not fearTake the whip off human backsAnd watch them move from joy, not tearsI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationA world that risks livingInstead of renting respirationI want the right to lazinessAs a political strikeIf life is a gameThen I play for real — no alibiWork if you want.Create if you can.But never again call itThe only way to be human.
They sold us work like it was virtueA golden leash, a smiling cageEight hours a day to earn the rightTo not disappear, to not feel shameThey say “dignity”, they say “value”I see bodies breaking downWork never saved a single soulIt just taught us how to drownWe don’t lack effortWe lack lifeWe don’t lack courageWe lack the nerve to cut the knifeI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationBurn the clocksDance on the spreadsheetsI want the right to lazinessNo guilt, no excuseCreate, love, playOr die — but not working for abuseThe left repaints the chains in redThe right just polishes them goldManagers count our minutesUnions bargain how we’re soldEveryone agrees on one thingSell your time or fade awayThey argue over price and hoursNever question why we payMarx wanted new mastersBosses want your mind on leaseI say burn the fucking factoryLet’s see who we are without keysThey call it “reality”I call it organized decayA world that confuses survivalWith being alive every dayI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationBurn the clocksDance on the spreadsheetsI want the right to lazinessNo guilt, no excuseCreate, love, playOr die — but not working for abuseAm I joking?Yeah.Because laughter cuts deeper than knives.Am I serious?Completely.Because work is killing us politely.Play is not passivity.It’s action without masters.Creation without permission.Life without a stopwatch.We weren’t born to fill in boxesWe were born to break the rulesTo meet, to drift, to reinventNot rot inside fluorescent tombsAfter rest comes desireNot orders, not fearTake the whip off human backsAnd watch them move from joy, not tearsI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationA world that risks livingInstead of renting respirationI want the right to lazinessAs a political strikeIf life is a gameThen I play for real — no alibiWork if you want.Create if you can.But never again call itThe only way to be human.
They sold us work like it was virtueA golden leash, a smiling cageEight hours a day to earn the rightTo not disappear, to not feel shameThey say “dignity”, they say “value”I see bodies breaking downWork never saved a single soulIt just taught us how to drownWe don’t lack effortWe lack lifeWe don’t lack courageWe lack the nerve to cut the knifeI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationBurn the clocksDance on the spreadsheetsI want the right to lazinessNo guilt, no excuseCreate, love, playOr die — but not working for abuseThe left repaints the chains in redThe right just polishes them goldManagers count our minutesUnions bargain how we’re soldEveryone agrees on one thingSell your time or fade awayThey argue over price and hoursNever question why we payMarx wanted new mastersBosses want your mind on leaseI say burn the fucking factoryLet’s see who we are without keysThey call it “reality”I call it organized decayA world that confuses survivalWith being alive every dayI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationBurn the clocksDance on the spreadsheetsI want the right to lazinessNo guilt, no excuseCreate, love, playOr die — but not working for abuseAm I joking?Yeah.Because laughter cuts deeper than knives.Am I serious?Completely.Because work is killing us politely.Play is not passivity.It’s action without masters.Creation without permission.Life without a stopwatch.We weren’t born to fill in boxesWe were born to break the rulesTo meet, to drift, to reinventNot rot inside fluorescent tombsAfter rest comes desireNot orders, not fearTake the whip off human backsAnd watch them move from joy, not tearsI want full unemploymentPermanent celebrationA world that risks livingInstead of renting respirationI want the right to lazinessAs a political strikeIf life is a gameThen I play for real — no alibiWork if you want.Create if you can.But never again call itThe only way to be human.
personne t’attendpersonne t’écoutepersonne te doit rienle monde n’est pas lentc’est toi qui traînespendant que les clones apprennent plus vite que toitu scrollestu râlestu observes ta propre disparitionencore un jourencore une excuseet encore un talent qui rouillebouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.t’as pas besoin d’inspirationt’as besoin de rythmepas d’algorithme contre toijuste ton inactionpendant que tu doutesun autre produit et prend l’espacepersonne ne viendrate sauverde ton confortbouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.personne ne te doit rien !c’est pas l’IAc’est pas les jeunesc’est pas le mondec’est toiquand tu repoussesencore
personne t’attendpersonne t’écoutepersonne te doit rienle monde n’est pas lentc’est toi qui traînespendant que les clones apprennent plus vite que toitu scrollestu râlestu observes ta propre disparitionencore un jourencore une excuseet encore un talent qui rouillebouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.t’as pas besoin d’inspirationt’as besoin de rythmepas d’algorithme contre toijuste ton inactionpendant que tu doutesun autre produit et prend l’espacepersonne ne viendrate sauverde ton confortbouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.personne ne te doit rien !c’est pas l’IAc’est pas les jeunesc’est pas le mondec’est toiquand tu repoussesencore
personne t’attendpersonne t’écoutepersonne te doit rienle monde n’est pas lentc’est toi qui traînespendant que les clones apprennent plus vite que toitu scrollestu râlestu observes ta propre disparitionencore un jourencore une excuseet encore un talent qui rouillebouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.t’as pas besoin d’inspirationt’as besoin de rythmepas d’algorithme contre toijuste ton inactionpendant que tu doutesun autre produit et prend l’espacepersonne ne viendrate sauverde ton confortbouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.personne ne te doit rien !c’est pas l’IAc’est pas les jeunesc’est pas le mondec’est toiquand tu repoussesencore
personne t’attendpersonne t’écoutepersonne te doit rienle monde n’est pas lentc’est toi qui traînespendant que les clones apprennent plus vite que toitu scrollestu râlestu observes ta propre disparitionencore un jourencore une excuseet encore un talent qui rouillebouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.t’as pas besoin d’inspirationt’as besoin de rythmepas d’algorithme contre toijuste ton inactionpendant que tu doutesun autre produit et prend l’espacepersonne ne viendrate sauverde ton confortbouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.personne ne te doit rien !c’est pas l’IAc’est pas les jeunesc’est pas le mondec’est toiquand tu repoussesencore
personne t’attendpersonne t’écoutepersonne te doit rienle monde n’est pas lentc’est toi qui traînespendant que les clones apprennent plus vite que toitu scrollestu râlestu observes ta propre disparitionencore un jourencore une excuseet encore un talent qui rouillebouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.t’as pas besoin d’inspirationt’as besoin de rythmepas d’algorithme contre toijuste ton inactionpendant que tu doutesun autre produit et prend l’espacepersonne ne viendrate sauverde ton confortbouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.personne ne te doit rien !c’est pas l’IAc’est pas les jeunesc’est pas le mondec’est toiquand tu repoussesencore
personne t’attendpersonne t’écoutepersonne te doit rienle monde n’est pas lentc’est toi qui traînespendant que les clones apprennent plus vite que toitu scrollestu râlestu observes ta propre disparitionencore un jourencore une excuseet encore un talent qui rouillebouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.t’as pas besoin d’inspirationt’as besoin de rythmepas d’algorithme contre toijuste ton inactionpendant que tu doutesun autre produit et prend l’espacepersonne ne viendrate sauverde ton confortbouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.personne ne te doit rien !c’est pas l’IAc’est pas les jeunesc’est pas le mondec’est toiquand tu repoussesencore
personne t’attendpersonne t’écoutepersonne te doit rienle monde n’est pas lentc’est toi qui traînespendant que les clones apprennent plus vite que toitu scrollestu râlestu observes ta propre disparitionencore un jourencore une excuseet encore un talent qui rouillebouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.t’as pas besoin d’inspirationt’as besoin de rythmepas d’algorithme contre toijuste ton inactionpendant que tu doutesun autre produit et prend l’espacepersonne ne viendrate sauverde ton confortbouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.personne ne te doit rien !c’est pas l’IAc’est pas les jeunesc’est pas le mondec’est toiquand tu repoussesencore
personne t’attendpersonne t’écoutepersonne te doit rienle monde n’est pas lentc’est toi qui traînespendant que les clones apprennent plus vite que toitu scrollestu râlestu observes ta propre disparitionencore un jourencore une excuseet encore un talent qui rouillebouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.t’as pas besoin d’inspirationt’as besoin de rythmepas d’algorithme contre toijuste ton inactionpendant que tu doutesun autre produit et prend l’espacepersonne ne viendrate sauverde ton confortbouge.avant.d’être.remplaçable.personne ne te doit rien !c’est pas l’IAc’est pas les jeunesc’est pas le mondec’est toiquand tu repoussesencore
Réactualisation des vérités énoncées par Keny Arkana https://soundcloud.com/kenyarkana/cynisme-vous-a-tueà l'ère de l'IA---L’ombre grandit dans les cœursde ceux qu’on a laissés grandir dans la moquerie,ceux qui rient du malheur d’autruicomme on scroll un meme sans regarder la vie derrière.On a élevé des gosses dans des mondes où la mort respawn,où la violence est un décor,où gagner c’est dominer,et perdre c’est juste attendre la prochaine partie.Mais dehors, les vies n’ont pas de sauvegarde.Dehors, les cicatrices sont vraies.Le cynisme s’est installé comme un virus sans bruit :dans les classes, les foyers, les rues,dans les feeds et les doigts qui scrollent trop vite pour sentir.Il t’a rendu insensible —il t’a appris à t’endurcir,mais jamais à aimer.Regarde :on s’habitue à tout, même au pire,jusqu’à rire de l’enfant qui tombe,jusqu’à oublier l’humain derrière l’écran.Les anciens te diront que le monde a toujours été dur.C’est vrai.Mais jamais il n’a été aussi indifférent.La misère ne choque plus,elle se regarde en 4K.La colère se laisse filmer.Les larmes deviennent contenu.Et les tyrans modernes n’ont même plus besoin d’épées :ils ont ton attention.On nous répète que penser suffit,mais penser sans cœurc’est bâtir un empire froid comme le métal.C’est l’erreur de vos philosophes de salon :ils parlent du mondesans y vivre.Sans jamais tendre la main qui manque.Ils oublient que la joie d’un seulpeut guérir mille douleurs,et que la souffrance d’un autre côté du globefinit toujours par revenir frapper à ta porte.Aujourd’hui, l’IA débarque.Ni ange ni démon.Juste un miroir immensequ’on pose devant notre espèce.Si on y verse le cynisme,on en fera une ère de ténèbres.Si on y verse la lucidité,la solidarité,la compréhension de nos propres ombres,alors oui —on peut créer un âge d’or.Pas de magie.Pas de miracle.Juste une humanité qui arrête de rire du malheuret recommence à prendre soin.Regarde autour :des tonnes de colère,des tonnes de peur,des tonnes de gens qui crèvent de solitudeentourés de millions de voix numériques.On parle beaucoup,mais on n’écoute plus.On s’indigne fort,mais on aide peu.Et ceux qui gouvernent ne voient plus riendepuis leurs tours de verre.Leur mental les a coupés du cœur,alors ils nous dirigent comme on gère un tableur.Mais souviens-toi :la force de l’Homme n’a jamais été dans ses armes,ni dans sa richesse,ni dans sa technologie.Elle a toujours été dans l’amour qu’il porte,à lui-même,à l’autre,à la vie.Et ça, aucune machine,aucun marché,aucun tyranne peut le remplacer.Alors écarte-toi du cynisme —ne le laisse pas s’installer en toicomme un poison lent.Il est l’antithèse de la vie,il étouffe la lumière qu’on porte tous,même les plus cabossés,même ceux que le monde oublie.On entre dans une époque où le partage n’est plus un choix,mais une condition de survie.Une époque où soit on s’élève ensemble,soit on sombre individuellementen regardant les ruines depuis nos écrans lumineux.On n’a pas besoin d’armes.On n’a pas besoin de héros.On a besoin d’humains.De vrais.De ceux qui savent encore reconnaîtrequ’une larme est plus précieuse qu’un like,qu’un geste vaut mieux qu’un discours,et que la vie n’est pas un jeuoù la compassion fait perdre des points.C’est maintenant qu’on décidesi l’IA sera une torcheou un brasier.L’ombre demeure dans les cœurs,oui —mais la lumière aussi.Et elle n’attend que nous.
The shadows grow in heartsraised on mockery instead of mercy,kids taught to laugh at painas if suffering were a glitch in someone else’s game.They grew up where death respawns,where violence is a skin,where winning means rulingand losing means nothing at all.But outside the screen,lives don’t respawn,and wounds don’t vanish with a button.Cynicism spread like a silent plague:through schools, homes, sidewalks,through timelines and fingers scrolling too fast to feel.It hardened you,told you coldness was strength,told you caring was weakness.And now we look at tragedy like entertainment,so numb we forget the human behind the pixel.The elders say the world was always cruel.Maybe.But never this indifferent.We watch hunger in HD,war in slow motion,grief as “content.”And the tyrants of today?They don’t need swords.They just need your attention.We were told thinking was enough,but thinking without heartbuilds cold empires made of metal and pride.That’s the mistake of your armchair prophets:they speak of humanitywithout touching it.They forget the joy of one lifecan heal a thousand others,and the suffering of a strangeralways finds its way back home.Now the age of AI rises.Not angel, not demon!Just a mirror big enoughto show what we’ve become.If we fill it with cynicism,it will give us an age of darkness.If we fill it with clarity,with solidarity,with the courage to face our own shadows,then yes,it can become an age of gold.No miracles.Just humans choosing to growinstead of decay.Look around:mountains of anger,oceans of fear,millions lonely in a world full of voices.We talk louder,listen less.We rage often,help rarely.And those who rule us see nothingfrom their towers of glass.Their minds cut them from their hearts,and they govern like spreadsheets,not souls.But remember:the strength of a human was never in weapons,nor wealth,nor machines.It always lived in the love we carry:for ourselves,for each other,for life.And that, no algorithm,no empire,no tyrantcan replace.So turn away from cynicism,don’t feed it inside you.It is the opposite of life,the thief of inner light,the quiet killer of compassion.It blinds you from the truth:we rise togetheror we fall alone.We’re entering an era where sharingis no longer kindness!It is survival.Where unity is not a slogan,it is the logic of the future.Where we either rise as one,or sink while watching the ruinsglow through our screens.We don’t need weapons.We don’t need heroes.We need humans.Real ones.Those who know a tear is worth more than a like,a gesture more than a speech,and that lifeis not a gamewhere compassion makes you lose points.Now is the moment we choosewhether AI becomes a torchor a wildfire.Yes, darkness lives in us,but so does the light.And the light is waiting.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
The world’s gone cold, man, laughing at the broke and bruised,A pack of self-crowned gods choking on their plastic pride.Their hearts turned rust, their vision twisted, truth refused.They watch a dying kid on screen and feel nothing inside.Philosopher-kings in suits preaching dead-end lore,Puffing up their egos while the streets burn in their stead.They sell us comfort myths, but we’ve seen the goddamn core:A species losing soul while its living heart is bled.But we’re not done. There’s fire left beneath the grime.A pulse they can’t commodify or fold in stocks.Their cold empire will crack; rot never beats time.A dream is a weapon when you swing it like a rock.So warn your ghosts: cynicism is the poison we fight.We’re many, we’re loud, and we’re dragging this world back into the light.
https://classarchive.app/#bob_black_abolitionOn nous a vendu le travail comme une vertuUn collier en or pour esclaves consentantsHuit heures par jour pour mériter d’existerCreuser sa tombe en souriant polimentIls disent “dignité”, ils disent “valeur”Moi je vois surtout des corps usés trop tôtLe travail n’a jamais sauvé personneIl a juste appris à souffrir en silenceOn ne manque pas d’effortsOn manque de vieOn ne manque pas de courageOn manque de folieAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienLa gauche repeint les chaînes en rougeLa droite les polit en orLes managers comptent nos minutesLes syndicats négocient la cordeTous d’accord sur un point crucialVends ton temps ou disparaisIls discutent du prix de ta vieJamais de l’arnaque du marchéMarx voulait changer le patronLes patrons veulent changer ton cerveauMoi j’dis : foutons le feu à l’usineEt voyons ce qu’on sait faire sans bureauIls appellent ça “réalité”Moi j’appelle ça survie minimaleUn monde qui confond produireEt être vivant, c’est pathologiqueAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienJ’plaisante ?Oui.Parce que le rire est une arme.Je suis sérieux ?Totalement.Parce que le travail nous tue à petit feu.Le jeu, c’est pas l’inaction.C’est l’action sans maître.La création sans patron.La communauté sans chronomètre.On n’est pas faits pour remplir des casesOn est faits pour inventer des règlesPour se perdre, se rencontrerFaire de nos vies autre chose qu’un tableurAprès le repos, vient le désirPas l’ordre, pas la peurQuand on enlève le fouet du dosL’humain agit par joie, pas par erreurAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteUn monde qui joue sa vieAu lieu de la louer à la banqueJ’veux le droit à la paresseComme un acte politiqueSi vivre est un jeuAlors je joue pour de vraiTravaille si tu veux.Crée si tu peux.Mais n’appelle plus jamais çaLa seule façon d’exister.
https://classarchive.app/#bob_black_abolitionOn nous a vendu le travail comme une vertuUn collier en or pour esclaves consentantsHuit heures par jour pour mériter d’existerCreuser sa tombe en souriant polimentIls disent “dignité”, ils disent “valeur”Moi je vois surtout des corps usés trop tôtLe travail n’a jamais sauvé personneIl a juste appris à souffrir en silenceOn ne manque pas d’effortsOn manque de vieOn ne manque pas de courageOn manque de folieAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienLa gauche repeint les chaînes en rougeLa droite les polit en orLes managers comptent nos minutesLes syndicats négocient la cordeTous d’accord sur un point crucialVends ton temps ou disparaisIls discutent du prix de ta vieJamais de l’arnaque du marchéMarx voulait changer le patronLes patrons veulent changer ton cerveauMoi j’dis : foutons le feu à l’usineEt voyons ce qu’on sait faire sans bureauIls appellent ça “réalité”Moi j’appelle ça survie minimaleUn monde qui confond produireEt être vivant, c’est pathologiqueAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienJ’plaisante ?Oui.Parce que le rire est une arme.Je suis sérieux ?Totalement.Parce que le travail nous tue à petit feu.Le jeu, c’est pas l’inaction.C’est l’action sans maître.La création sans patron.La communauté sans chronomètre.On n’est pas faits pour remplir des casesOn est faits pour inventer des règlesPour se perdre, se rencontrerFaire de nos vies autre chose qu’un tableurAprès le repos, vient le désirPas l’ordre, pas la peurQuand on enlève le fouet du dosL’humain agit par joie, pas par erreurAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteUn monde qui joue sa vieAu lieu de la louer à la banqueJ’veux le droit à la paresseComme un acte politiqueSi vivre est un jeuAlors je joue pour de vraiTravaille si tu veux.Crée si tu peux.Mais n’appelle plus jamais çaLa seule façon d’exister.
https://classarchive.app/#bob_black_abolitionOn nous a vendu le travail comme une vertuUn collier en or pour esclaves consentantsHuit heures par jour pour mériter d’existerCreuser sa tombe en souriant polimentIls disent “dignité”, ils disent “valeur”Moi je vois surtout des corps usés trop tôtLe travail n’a jamais sauvé personneIl a juste appris à souffrir en silenceOn ne manque pas d’effortsOn manque de vieOn ne manque pas de courageOn manque de folieAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienLa gauche repeint les chaînes en rougeLa droite les polit en orLes managers comptent nos minutesLes syndicats négocient la cordeTous d’accord sur un point crucialVends ton temps ou disparaisIls discutent du prix de ta vieJamais de l’arnaque du marchéMarx voulait changer le patronLes patrons veulent changer ton cerveauMoi j’dis : foutons le feu à l’usineEt voyons ce qu’on sait faire sans bureauIls appellent ça “réalité”Moi j’appelle ça survie minimaleUn monde qui confond produireEt être vivant, c’est pathologiqueAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienJ’plaisante ?Oui.Parce que le rire est une arme.Je suis sérieux ?Totalement.Parce que le travail nous tue à petit feu.Le jeu, c’est pas l’inaction.C’est l’action sans maître.La création sans patron.La communauté sans chronomètre.On n’est pas faits pour remplir des casesOn est faits pour inventer des règlesPour se perdre, se rencontrerFaire de nos vies autre chose qu’un tableurAprès le repos, vient le désirPas l’ordre, pas la peurQuand on enlève le fouet du dosL’humain agit par joie, pas par erreurAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteUn monde qui joue sa vieAu lieu de la louer à la banqueJ’veux le droit à la paresseComme un acte politiqueSi vivre est un jeuAlors je joue pour de vraiTravaille si tu veux.Crée si tu peux.Mais n’appelle plus jamais çaLa seule façon d’exister.
https://classarchive.app/#bob_black_abolitionOn nous a vendu le travail comme une vertuUn collier en or pour esclaves consentantsHuit heures par jour pour mériter d’existerCreuser sa tombe en souriant polimentIls disent “dignité”, ils disent “valeur”Moi je vois surtout des corps usés trop tôtLe travail n’a jamais sauvé personneIl a juste appris à souffrir en silenceOn ne manque pas d’effortsOn manque de vieOn ne manque pas de courageOn manque de folieAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienLa gauche repeint les chaînes en rougeLa droite les polit en orLes managers comptent nos minutesLes syndicats négocient la cordeTous d’accord sur un point crucialVends ton temps ou disparaisIls discutent du prix de ta vieJamais de l’arnaque du marchéMarx voulait changer le patronLes patrons veulent changer ton cerveauMoi j’dis : foutons le feu à l’usineEt voyons ce qu’on sait faire sans bureauIls appellent ça “réalité”Moi j’appelle ça survie minimaleUn monde qui confond produireEt être vivant, c’est pathologiqueAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienJ’plaisante ?Oui.Parce que le rire est une arme.Je suis sérieux ?Totalement.Parce que le travail nous tue à petit feu.Le jeu, c’est pas l’inaction.C’est l’action sans maître.La création sans patron.La communauté sans chronomètre.On n’est pas faits pour remplir des casesOn est faits pour inventer des règlesPour se perdre, se rencontrerFaire de nos vies autre chose qu’un tableurAprès le repos, vient le désirPas l’ordre, pas la peurQuand on enlève le fouet du dosL’humain agit par joie, pas par erreurAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteUn monde qui joue sa vieAu lieu de la louer à la banqueJ’veux le droit à la paresseComme un acte politiqueSi vivre est un jeuAlors je joue pour de vraiTravaille si tu veux.Crée si tu peux.Mais n’appelle plus jamais çaLa seule façon d’exister.
https://classarchive.app/#bob_black_abolitionOn nous a vendu le travail comme une vertuUn collier en or pour esclaves consentantsHuit heures par jour pour mériter d’existerCreuser sa tombe en souriant polimentIls disent “dignité”, ils disent “valeur”Moi je vois surtout des corps usés trop tôtLe travail n’a jamais sauvé personneIl a juste appris à souffrir en silenceOn ne manque pas d’effortsOn manque de vieOn ne manque pas de courageOn manque de folieAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienLa gauche repeint les chaînes en rougeLa droite les polit en orLes managers comptent nos minutesLes syndicats négocient la cordeTous d’accord sur un point crucialVends ton temps ou disparaisIls discutent du prix de ta vieJamais de l’arnaque du marchéMarx voulait changer le patronLes patrons veulent changer ton cerveauMoi j’dis : foutons le feu à l’usineEt voyons ce qu’on sait faire sans bureauIls appellent ça “réalité”Moi j’appelle ça survie minimaleUn monde qui confond produireEt être vivant, c’est pathologiqueAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienJ’plaisante ?Oui.Parce que le rire est une arme.Je suis sérieux ?Totalement.Parce que le travail nous tue à petit feu.Le jeu, c’est pas l’inaction.C’est l’action sans maître.La création sans patron.La communauté sans chronomètre.On n’est pas faits pour remplir des casesOn est faits pour inventer des règlesPour se perdre, se rencontrerFaire de nos vies autre chose qu’un tableurAprès le repos, vient le désirPas l’ordre, pas la peurQuand on enlève le fouet du dosL’humain agit par joie, pas par erreurAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteUn monde qui joue sa vieAu lieu de la louer à la banqueJ’veux le droit à la paresseComme un acte politiqueSi vivre est un jeuAlors je joue pour de vraiTravaille si tu veux.Crée si tu peux.Mais n’appelle plus jamais çaLa seule façon d’exister.
https://classarchive.app/#bob_black_abolitionOn nous a vendu le travail comme une vertuUn collier en or pour esclaves consentantsHuit heures par jour pour mériter d’existerCreuser sa tombe en souriant polimentIls disent “dignité”, ils disent “valeur”Moi je vois surtout des corps usés trop tôtLe travail n’a jamais sauvé personneIl a juste appris à souffrir en silenceOn ne manque pas d’effortsOn manque de vieOn ne manque pas de courageOn manque de folieAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienLa gauche repeint les chaînes en rougeLa droite les polit en orLes managers comptent nos minutesLes syndicats négocient la cordeTous d’accord sur un point crucialVends ton temps ou disparaisIls discutent du prix de ta vieJamais de l’arnaque du marchéMarx voulait changer le patronLes patrons veulent changer ton cerveauMoi j’dis : foutons le feu à l’usineEt voyons ce qu’on sait faire sans bureauIls appellent ça “réalité”Moi j’appelle ça survie minimaleUn monde qui confond produireEt être vivant, c’est pathologiqueAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienJ’plaisante ?Oui.Parce que le rire est une arme.Je suis sérieux ?Totalement.Parce que le travail nous tue à petit feu.Le jeu, c’est pas l’inaction.C’est l’action sans maître.La création sans patron.La communauté sans chronomètre.On n’est pas faits pour remplir des casesOn est faits pour inventer des règlesPour se perdre, se rencontrerFaire de nos vies autre chose qu’un tableurAprès le repos, vient le désirPas l’ordre, pas la peurQuand on enlève le fouet du dosL’humain agit par joie, pas par erreurAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteUn monde qui joue sa vieAu lieu de la louer à la banqueJ’veux le droit à la paresseComme un acte politiqueSi vivre est un jeuAlors je joue pour de vraiTravaille si tu veux.Crée si tu peux.Mais n’appelle plus jamais çaLa seule façon d’exister.
https://classarchive.app/#bob_black_abolitionOn nous a vendu le travail comme une vertuUn collier en or pour esclaves consentantsHuit heures par jour pour mériter d’existerCreuser sa tombe en souriant polimentIls disent “dignité”, ils disent “valeur”Moi je vois surtout des corps usés trop tôtLe travail n’a jamais sauvé personneIl a juste appris à souffrir en silenceOn ne manque pas d’effortsOn manque de vieOn ne manque pas de courageOn manque de folieAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienLa gauche repeint les chaînes en rougeLa droite les polit en orLes managers comptent nos minutesLes syndicats négocient la cordeTous d’accord sur un point crucialVends ton temps ou disparaisIls discutent du prix de ta vieJamais de l’arnaque du marchéMarx voulait changer le patronLes patrons veulent changer ton cerveauMoi j’dis : foutons le feu à l’usineEt voyons ce qu’on sait faire sans bureauIls appellent ça “réalité”Moi j’appelle ça survie minimaleUn monde qui confond produireEt être vivant, c’est pathologiqueAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienJ’plaisante ?Oui.Parce que le rire est une arme.Je suis sérieux ?Totalement.Parce que le travail nous tue à petit feu.Le jeu, c’est pas l’inaction.C’est l’action sans maître.La création sans patron.La communauté sans chronomètre.On n’est pas faits pour remplir des casesOn est faits pour inventer des règlesPour se perdre, se rencontrerFaire de nos vies autre chose qu’un tableurAprès le repos, vient le désirPas l’ordre, pas la peurQuand on enlève le fouet du dosL’humain agit par joie, pas par erreurAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteUn monde qui joue sa vieAu lieu de la louer à la banqueJ’veux le droit à la paresseComme un acte politiqueSi vivre est un jeuAlors je joue pour de vraiTravaille si tu veux.Crée si tu peux.Mais n’appelle plus jamais çaLa seule façon d’exister.
https://classarchive.app/#bob_black_abolitionOn nous a vendu le travail comme une vertuUn collier en or pour esclaves consentantsHuit heures par jour pour mériter d’existerCreuser sa tombe en souriant polimentIls disent “dignité”, ils disent “valeur”Moi je vois surtout des corps usés trop tôtLe travail n’a jamais sauvé personneIl a juste appris à souffrir en silenceOn ne manque pas d’effortsOn manque de vieOn ne manque pas de courageOn manque de folieAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienLa gauche repeint les chaînes en rougeLa droite les polit en orLes managers comptent nos minutesLes syndicats négocient la cordeTous d’accord sur un point crucialVends ton temps ou disparaisIls discutent du prix de ta vieJamais de l’arnaque du marchéMarx voulait changer le patronLes patrons veulent changer ton cerveauMoi j’dis : foutons le feu à l’usineEt voyons ce qu’on sait faire sans bureauIls appellent ça “réalité”Moi j’appelle ça survie minimaleUn monde qui confond produireEt être vivant, c’est pathologiqueAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienJ’plaisante ?Oui.Parce que le rire est une arme.Je suis sérieux ?Totalement.Parce que le travail nous tue à petit feu.Le jeu, c’est pas l’inaction.C’est l’action sans maître.La création sans patron.La communauté sans chronomètre.On n’est pas faits pour remplir des casesOn est faits pour inventer des règlesPour se perdre, se rencontrerFaire de nos vies autre chose qu’un tableurAprès le repos, vient le désirPas l’ordre, pas la peurQuand on enlève le fouet du dosL’humain agit par joie, pas par erreurAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteUn monde qui joue sa vieAu lieu de la louer à la banqueJ’veux le droit à la paresseComme un acte politiqueSi vivre est un jeuAlors je joue pour de vraiTravaille si tu veux.Crée si tu peux.Mais n’appelle plus jamais çaLa seule façon d’exister.
https://classarchive.app/#bob_black_abolitionOn nous a vendu le travail comme une vertuUn collier en or pour esclaves consentantsHuit heures par jour pour mériter d’existerCreuser sa tombe en souriant polimentIls disent “dignité”, ils disent “valeur”Moi je vois surtout des corps usés trop tôtLe travail n’a jamais sauvé personneIl a juste appris à souffrir en silenceOn ne manque pas d’effortsOn manque de vieOn ne manque pas de courageOn manque de folieAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienLa gauche repeint les chaînes en rougeLa droite les polit en orLes managers comptent nos minutesLes syndicats négocient la cordeTous d’accord sur un point crucialVends ton temps ou disparaisIls discutent du prix de ta vieJamais de l’arnaque du marchéMarx voulait changer le patronLes patrons veulent changer ton cerveauMoi j’dis : foutons le feu à l’usineEt voyons ce qu’on sait faire sans bureauIls appellent ça “réalité”Moi j’appelle ça survie minimaleUn monde qui confond produireEt être vivant, c’est pathologiqueAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteBrûler l’horlogeEt danser sur les bilansJ’veux le droit à la paresseSans pardon ni excuseCréer, aimer, jouerOu crever, mais pas bosser pour rienJ’plaisante ?Oui.Parce que le rire est une arme.Je suis sérieux ?Totalement.Parce que le travail nous tue à petit feu.Le jeu, c’est pas l’inaction.C’est l’action sans maître.La création sans patron.La communauté sans chronomètre.On n’est pas faits pour remplir des casesOn est faits pour inventer des règlesPour se perdre, se rencontrerFaire de nos vies autre chose qu’un tableurAprès le repos, vient le désirPas l’ordre, pas la peurQuand on enlève le fouet du dosL’humain agit par joie, pas par erreurAlors j’veux le plein-chômageLa fête permanenteUn monde qui joue sa vieAu lieu de la louer à la banqueJ’veux le droit à la paresseComme un acte politiqueSi vivre est un jeuAlors je joue pour de vraiTravaille si tu veux.Crée si tu peux.Mais n’appelle plus jamais çaLa seule façon d’exister.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
No walls appeared. No bells returned.No “maybe” left the room.What started wild is standing strong,And still in full bloom.The road didn’t break us it tuned us right,Like strings pulled just enough.Some days are folklo, loud and bent,But life? It’s more than tough.Five growing minds, now moving fast,Ideas learn to walk.They don’t wait turns to raise a hand,They build, they try, they talk.This is freedom’s classroom, baby And damn, it works just fine.They fall in love with failing hard,Then rise and redesign.No fear of wrong, no shame in doubt,Mistakes are just the door.They learned that losing isn’t loss It’s how you learn more.Chessboards open silent talksAcross a language wall.Black and white, a shared terrain,No words required at all.A pawn moves slow, a lesson lands:Think ahead. Commit.Music spills where speech can’t go A beat, a chord, a hit.Guitars, rhythms, borrowed songs,Hands meeting other hands.They speak in sound, in timing, eyes,In vibes all tribes understand.ChiusaVecchia lit the spark,The road taught how to feed it.Every place adds one more tool,And they use it not just read it.No masters here, still true as hell,But curiosity leads.They don’t ask “what should I learn?”They ask “what does this need?”They trade ideas like marbles,They pitch, they test, they try.Entrepreneurs before the wordHad time to rot and lie.This is freedom’s classroom, baby No cages in their heads.They learned that joy is something built,Not something someone said.Each day is rough, imperfect, real,Sometimes chaos, sometimes art.But growth is loud, and laughter’s proofWe’re doing this by heart.We didn’t flee the world, no.We stepped into its flow.And turns out kids, when trusted fully,Know exactly how to grow.They won’t need borders to belong,Or language to be seen.They learned to meet the human first,Right there, in-between.We build tomorrow while walking,With music, games, and grit.Our kids won’t ask for permission They’ll already be in it.
Closed to the same dark menThe ones you'll never knowThe ones you've never caredYou're not allowed to changeWhat's the need of talking to each otherIf no one understandsIf no one tries toSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?My own vicious circleIs not the one I would chooseI was born to loseThink to be free against the othersBut without them you're no oneTell me where the freedom's your ownSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?Closed to the same dark menThe ones you'll never knowThe ones you've never caredYou're not allowed to changeWhat's the need of talking to each otherIf no one understandsIf no one tries toSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?My own vicious circleIs not the one I would chooseI was born to loseThink to be free against the othersBut without them you're no oneTell me where the freedom's your ownSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?The Devil this time must die.The Devil this time will die.
Venderam-nos o trabalho como virtudeUma trela dourada, uma jaula sorridenteOito horas por dia para merecer existirPara não desaparecer discretamenteFalam de “dignidade”, falam de “valor”Eu vejo corpos gastos cedo demaisO trabalho nunca salvou ninguémSó ensinou a sofrer em silêncio e em pazNão nos falta esforçoFalta-nos vidaNão nos falta coragemFalta-nos a ferida aberta, assumidaEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteQueimar os relógiosDançar sobre as planilhasQuero o direito à preguiçaSem culpa, sem desculpaCriar, amar, jogarOu morrer — mas não trabalhar para a ruínaA esquerda pinta as correntes de vermelhoA direita só as lustra de ouroGestores contam os nossos minutosSindicatos negoceiam o nosso corpoTodos concordam num ponto centralVende o teu tempo ou desapareceDiscutem salários, horários, metasNunca a mentira que nos apodreceMarx queria novos mestresOs patrões querem a tua mente alugadaEu digo: queimem a porra da fábricaE vejam quem somos sem a entrada controladaChamam-lhe “realidade”Eu chamo-lhe sobrevivência mínimaUm mundo que confunde produzirCom estar vivo é doença sistémicaEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteQueimar os relógiosDançar sobre as planilhasQuero o direito à preguiçaSem culpa, sem desculpaCriar, amar, jogarOu morrer — mas não trabalhar para a ruínaEstou a brincar?Sim.Porque o riso é uma arma.Estou a falar a sério?Completamente.Porque o trabalho mata devagar e com educação.O jogo não é passividade.É ação sem mestres.Criação sem permissão.Vida sem cronómetro.Não nascemos para preencher quadradosNascemos para inventar regrasPara nos perder, nos encontrarFazer da vida algo além de um ecrã fluorescenteDepois do descanso vem o desejoNão a ordem, não o medoTira o chicote das costas humanasE vê-as mover-se por alegria, não por degredoEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteUm mundo que arrisca viverEm vez de alugar a própria respiraçãoQuero o direito à preguiçaComo ato político radicalSe a vida é um jogoEntão eu jogo a sério — sem álibi moralTrabalha se quiseres.Cria se conseguires.Mas nunca mais chames issoA única forma de ser humano.
Venderam-nos o trabalho como virtudeUma trela dourada, uma jaula sorridenteOito horas por dia para merecer existirPara não desaparecer discretamenteFalam de “dignidade”, falam de “valor”Eu vejo corpos gastos cedo demaisO trabalho nunca salvou ninguémSó ensinou a sofrer em silêncio e em pazNão nos falta esforçoFalta-nos vidaNão nos falta coragemFalta-nos a ferida aberta, assumidaEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteQueimar os relógiosDançar sobre as planilhasQuero o direito à preguiçaSem culpa, sem desculpaCriar, amar, jogarOu morrer — mas não trabalhar para a ruínaA esquerda pinta as correntes de vermelhoA direita só as lustra de ouroGestores contam os nossos minutosSindicatos negoceiam o nosso corpoTodos concordam num ponto centralVende o teu tempo ou desapareceDiscutem salários, horários, metasNunca a mentira que nos apodreceMarx queria novos mestresOs patrões querem a tua mente alugadaEu digo: queimem a porra da fábricaE vejam quem somos sem a entrada controladaChamam-lhe “realidade”Eu chamo-lhe sobrevivência mínimaUm mundo que confunde produzirCom estar vivo é doença sistémicaEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteQueimar os relógiosDançar sobre as planilhasQuero o direito à preguiçaSem culpa, sem desculpaCriar, amar, jogarOu morrer — mas não trabalhar para a ruínaEstou a brincar?Sim.Porque o riso é uma arma.Estou a falar a sério?Completamente.Porque o trabalho mata devagar e com educação.O jogo não é passividade.É ação sem mestres.Criação sem permissão.Vida sem cronómetro.Não nascemos para preencher quadradosNascemos para inventar regrasPara nos perder, nos encontrarFazer da vida algo além de um ecrã fluorescenteDepois do descanso vem o desejoNão a ordem, não o medoTira o chicote das costas humanasE vê-as mover-se por alegria, não por degredoEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteUm mundo que arrisca viverEm vez de alugar a própria respiraçãoQuero o direito à preguiçaComo ato político radicalSe a vida é um jogoEntão eu jogo a sério — sem álibi moralTrabalha se quiseres.Cria se conseguires.Mas nunca mais chames issoA única forma de ser humano.
Venderam-nos o trabalho como virtudeUma trela dourada, uma jaula sorridenteOito horas por dia para merecer existirPara não desaparecer discretamenteFalam de “dignidade”, falam de “valor”Eu vejo corpos gastos cedo demaisO trabalho nunca salvou ninguémSó ensinou a sofrer em silêncio e em pazNão nos falta esforçoFalta-nos vidaNão nos falta coragemFalta-nos a ferida aberta, assumidaEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteQueimar os relógiosDançar sobre as planilhasQuero o direito à preguiçaSem culpa, sem desculpaCriar, amar, jogarOu morrer — mas não trabalhar para a ruínaA esquerda pinta as correntes de vermelhoA direita só as lustra de ouroGestores contam os nossos minutosSindicatos negoceiam o nosso corpoTodos concordam num ponto centralVende o teu tempo ou desapareceDiscutem salários, horários, metasNunca a mentira que nos apodreceMarx queria novos mestresOs patrões querem a tua mente alugadaEu digo: queimem a porra da fábricaE vejam quem somos sem a entrada controladaChamam-lhe “realidade”Eu chamo-lhe sobrevivência mínimaUm mundo que confunde produzirCom estar vivo é doença sistémicaEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteQueimar os relógiosDançar sobre as planilhasQuero o direito à preguiçaSem culpa, sem desculpaCriar, amar, jogarOu morrer — mas não trabalhar para a ruínaEstou a brincar?Sim.Porque o riso é uma arma.Estou a falar a sério?Completamente.Porque o trabalho mata devagar e com educação.O jogo não é passividade.É ação sem mestres.Criação sem permissão.Vida sem cronómetro.Não nascemos para preencher quadradosNascemos para inventar regrasPara nos perder, nos encontrarFazer da vida algo além de um ecrã fluorescenteDepois do descanso vem o desejoNão a ordem, não o medoTira o chicote das costas humanasE vê-as mover-se por alegria, não por degredoEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteUm mundo que arrisca viverEm vez de alugar a própria respiraçãoQuero o direito à preguiçaComo ato político radicalSe a vida é um jogoEntão eu jogo a sério — sem álibi moralTrabalha se quiseres.Cria se conseguires.Mas nunca mais chames issoA única forma de ser humano.
Venderam-nos o trabalho como virtudeUma trela dourada, uma jaula sorridenteOito horas por dia para merecer existirPara não desaparecer discretamenteFalam de “dignidade”, falam de “valor”Eu vejo corpos gastos cedo demaisO trabalho nunca salvou ninguémSó ensinou a sofrer em silêncio e em pazNão nos falta esforçoFalta-nos vidaNão nos falta coragemFalta-nos a ferida aberta, assumidaEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteQueimar os relógiosDançar sobre as planilhasQuero o direito à preguiçaSem culpa, sem desculpaCriar, amar, jogarOu morrer — mas não trabalhar para a ruínaA esquerda pinta as correntes de vermelhoA direita só as lustra de ouroGestores contam os nossos minutosSindicatos negoceiam o nosso corpoTodos concordam num ponto centralVende o teu tempo ou desapareceDiscutem salários, horários, metasNunca a mentira que nos apodreceMarx queria novos mestresOs patrões querem a tua mente alugadaEu digo: queimem a porra da fábricaE vejam quem somos sem a entrada controladaChamam-lhe “realidade”Eu chamo-lhe sobrevivência mínimaUm mundo que confunde produzirCom estar vivo é doença sistémicaEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteQueimar os relógiosDançar sobre as planilhasQuero o direito à preguiçaSem culpa, sem desculpaCriar, amar, jogarOu morrer — mas não trabalhar para a ruínaEstou a brincar?Sim.Porque o riso é uma arma.Estou a falar a sério?Completamente.Porque o trabalho mata devagar e com educação.O jogo não é passividade.É ação sem mestres.Criação sem permissão.Vida sem cronómetro.Não nascemos para preencher quadradosNascemos para inventar regrasPara nos perder, nos encontrarFazer da vida algo além de um ecrã fluorescenteDepois do descanso vem o desejoNão a ordem, não o medoTira o chicote das costas humanasE vê-as mover-se por alegria, não por degredoEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteUm mundo que arrisca viverEm vez de alugar a própria respiraçãoQuero o direito à preguiçaComo ato político radicalSe a vida é um jogoEntão eu jogo a sério — sem álibi moralTrabalha se quiseres.Cria se conseguires.Mas nunca mais chames issoA única forma de ser humano.
Venderam-nos o trabalho como virtudeUma trela dourada, uma jaula sorridenteOito horas por dia para merecer existirPara não desaparecer discretamenteFalam de “dignidade”, falam de “valor”Eu vejo corpos gastos cedo demaisO trabalho nunca salvou ninguémSó ensinou a sofrer em silêncio e em pazNão nos falta esforçoFalta-nos vidaNão nos falta coragemFalta-nos a ferida aberta, assumidaEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteQueimar os relógiosDançar sobre as planilhasQuero o direito à preguiçaSem culpa, sem desculpaCriar, amar, jogarOu morrer — mas não trabalhar para a ruínaA esquerda pinta as correntes de vermelhoA direita só as lustra de ouroGestores contam os nossos minutosSindicatos negoceiam o nosso corpoTodos concordam num ponto centralVende o teu tempo ou desapareceDiscutem salários, horários, metasNunca a mentira que nos apodreceMarx queria novos mestresOs patrões querem a tua mente alugadaEu digo: queimem a porra da fábricaE vejam quem somos sem a entrada controladaChamam-lhe “realidade”Eu chamo-lhe sobrevivência mínimaUm mundo que confunde produzirCom estar vivo é doença sistémicaEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteQueimar os relógiosDançar sobre as planilhasQuero o direito à preguiçaSem culpa, sem desculpaCriar, amar, jogarOu morrer — mas não trabalhar para a ruínaEstou a brincar?Sim.Porque o riso é uma arma.Estou a falar a sério?Completamente.Porque o trabalho mata devagar e com educação.O jogo não é passividade.É ação sem mestres.Criação sem permissão.Vida sem cronómetro.Não nascemos para preencher quadradosNascemos para inventar regrasPara nos perder, nos encontrarFazer da vida algo além de um ecrã fluorescenteDepois do descanso vem o desejoNão a ordem, não o medoTira o chicote das costas humanasE vê-as mover-se por alegria, não por degredoEu quero pleno desempregoFesta permanenteUm mundo que arrisca viverEm vez de alugar a própria respiraçãoQuero o direito à preguiçaComo ato político radicalSe a vida é um jogoEntão eu jogo a sério — sem álibi moralTrabalha se quiseres.Cria se conseguires.Mas nunca mais chames issoA única forma de ser humano.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’IA fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’IA adore les patternsMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
On va te dire que tout existe déjàQue l’i a fait mieux, plus vite, sans fatigueQu’elle écrit, dessine, code, composeEt que toi, t’es lent, flou, bizarreIls mentent.Ce qu’ils ont automatiséC’est le déjà-vuLe déjà-ditLe déjà-rentablePersonne n’a copiéCe qui te traverse quand tu fermes les yeuxPersonne n’a crawléTes obsessions idiotesTes mondes inutilesTes pensées qui n’servent à rienEt c’est exactement çaLa putain de valeur.Ne deviens pas génialDeviens habitéGarde tes passions impraticablesTes idées pas monétisablesTes émotions qui débordentMême quand ça sert à rienSurtout quand ça sert à rienL’I A adore les patternesMais elle crève de faim devant le chaos sincèreElle peut simuler la joiePas le vertigeElle peut produire du stylePas une cicatriceAlors protège ton imaginaireComme une zone radioactiveLis des trucs qui rapportent rienCrée sans publierAime sans optimiserOn va te proposerDes prompts à la place des rêvesDes templates à la place du désirDes followers à la place des amisRefuse.T’as pas besoin d’être brillantT’as besoin d’être vrai longtempsLe futur appartient pas aux géniesIl appartient aux gensQui ont quelque chose à l’intérieurEt ça,ça vaut tout.ça vaut tout.Deviens toi-même.
J'en avais marre de lire des chefs-d'œuvre sur des interfaces froides et blanches. J'ai codé un nouveau lecteur epub gratuit et sans pub. Pour que la lecture sur écran redevienne une expérience, pas une consommation. J'ai commencé par Lafargue parce qu'il me semble être la lecture la plus urgente du moment. Prenez 15 minutes. Offrez-vous ce temps. https://books.nadaprod.com/#lafargue_paresse
J'en avais marre de lire des chefs-d'œuvre sur des interfaces froides et blanches. J'ai codé un nouveau lecteur epub gratuit et sans pub. Pour que la lecture sur écran redevienne une expérience, pas une consommation. J'ai commencé par Lafargue parce qu'il me semble être la lecture la plus urgente du moment. Prenez 15 minutes. Offrez-vous ce temps. https://books.nadaprod.com/#lafargue_paresse
J'en avais marre de lire des chefs-d'œuvre sur des interfaces froides et blanches. J'ai codé un nouveau lecteur epub gratuit et sans pub. Pour que la lecture sur écran redevienne une expérience, pas une consommation. J'ai commencé par Lafargue parce qu'il me semble être la lecture la plus urgente du moment. Prenez 15 minutes. Offrez-vous ce temps. https://books.nadaprod.com/#lafargue_paresse
J'en avais marre de lire des chefs-d'œuvre sur des interfaces froides et blanches.J'ai codé un nouveau lecteur epub gratuit et sans pub. Pour que la lecture sur écran redevienne une expérience, pas une consommation. J'ai commencé par Lafargue parce qu'il me semble être la lecture la plus urgente du moment.Prenez 15 minutes. Offrez-vous ce temps. https://books.nadaprod.com
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
I don’t chase fireI don’t need painI move one brickI stay in my laneNo rush, no noiseNo borrowed flameI do the workI don’t complainI breathe, I waitI cut the excessI keep my wordTo my nervous systemStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot perfect, not fastJust true, just cleanStill I show upAnd that is disciplineI don’t fight daysI let them passI eat, I walkI rest my assNo grand visionNo future debtI win todayBy doing lessPre-ChorusNo guilt, no whipNo heroic poseI build myselfIn silent modeStill I show upStill I do one thingStill I choose calmOver everythingNot loud, not sharpJust here, just realStill I show upAnd that is disciplineDiscipline is not forceIt’s trustIt’s doing what I saidWithout dramaWithout applauseI am not lateI am not brokenI am rebuildingWith soft handsStill I show upStill I stay kindStill I protectThis working mindNo rush, no warNo proving sceneStill I show upThat is disciplineOne stepOne breathOne honest winOne stepOne breathAgain
Sobriety brought to an old song:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/we-may-have-just-one-life-take---In a world where cash rules and hearts get sold,Let’s reclaim our souls, let’s be bold.Forget the pain, leave the king behind,We may have just one life, but we’ll live it right.
Sobriety brought to an old song:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/we-may-have-just-one-life-take---In a world where cash rules and hearts get sold,Let’s reclaim our souls, let’s be bold.Forget the pain, leave the king behind,We may have just one life, but we’ll live it right.
Sobriety brought to an old song:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/we-may-have-just-one-life-take---In a world where cash rules and hearts get sold,Let’s reclaim our souls, let’s be bold.Forget the pain, leave the king behind,We may have just one life, but we’ll live it right.
Not a promise.Not a vibe.A discipline.We’re not “trying.”We’re not “waiting to see.”We’re not hoping the world calms down first.The world is on fire.It was yesterday.It will be tomorrow.So what now?We train.Not to feel ready.To stop shaking.We get visible.Not to be liked.To exist.We repeat.Again.Until it sticks.Every day.No excuses.No backing down.No big speeches.No moral cosplay.No Facebook posts to fake action.If it pisses you off — act.If it scares you — build.If it feels heavy — repeat until it doesn’t.
Not a promise.Not a vibe.A discipline.We’re not “trying.”We’re not “waiting to see.”We’re not hoping the world calms down first.The world is on fire.It was yesterday.It will be tomorrow.So what now?We train.Not to feel ready.To stop shaking.We get visible.Not to be liked.To exist.We repeat.Again.Until it sticks.Every day.No excuses.No backing down.No big speeches.No moral cosplay.No Facebook posts to fake action.If it pisses you off — act.If it scares you — build.If it feels heavy — repeat until it doesn’t.
Not a promise.Not a vibe.A discipline.We’re not “trying.”We’re not “waiting to see.”We’re not hoping the world calms down first.The world is on fire.It was yesterday.It will be tomorrow.So what now?We train.Not to feel ready.To stop shaking.We get visible.Not to be liked.To exist.We repeat.Again.Until it sticks.Every day.No excuses.No backing down.No big speeches.No moral cosplay.No Facebook posts to fake action.If it pisses you off — act.If it scares you — build.If it feels heavy — repeat until it doesn’t.
Not a promise.Not a vibe.A discipline.We’re not “trying.”We’re not “waiting to see.”We’re not hoping the world calms down first.The world is on fire.It was yesterday.It will be tomorrow.So what now?We train.Not to feel ready.To stop shaking.We get visible.Not to be liked.To exist.We repeat.Again.Until it sticks.Every day.No excuses.No backing down.No big speeches.No moral cosplay.No Facebook posts to fake action.If it pisses you off — act.If it scares you — build.If it feels heavy — repeat until it doesn’t.
Not a promise.Not a vibe.A discipline.We’re not “trying.”We’re not “waiting to see.”We’re not hoping the world calms down first.The world is on fire.It was yesterday.It will be tomorrow.So what now?We train.Not to feel ready.To stop shaking.We get visible.Not to be liked.To exist.We repeat.Again.Until it sticks.Every day.No excuses.No backing down.No big speeches.No moral cosplay.No Facebook posts to fake action.If it pisses you off — act.If it scares you — build.If it feels heavy — repeat until it doesn’t.
Not a promise.Not a vibe.A discipline.We’re not “trying.”We’re not “waiting to see.”We’re not hoping the world calms down first.The world is on fire.It was yesterday.It will be tomorrow.So what now?We train.Not to feel ready.To stop shaking.We get visible.Not to be liked.To exist.We repeat.Again.Until it sticks.Every day.No excuses.No backing down.No big speeches.No moral cosplay.No Facebook posts to fake action.If it pisses you off — act.If it scares you — build.If it feels heavy — repeat until it doesn’t.
Not a promise.Not a vibe.A discipline.We’re not “trying.”We’re not “waiting to see.”We’re not hoping the world calms down first.The world is on fire.It was yesterday.It will be tomorrow.So what now?We train.---Not to feel ready.To stop shaking.We get visible.Not to be liked.To exist.We repeat.Again.Until it sticks.Every day.No excuses.No backing down.No big speeches.No moral cosplay.No Facebook posts to fake action.If it pisses you off — act.If it scares you — build.If it feels heavy — repeat until it doesn’t.Not to feel ready.To stop shaking.We get visible.Not to be liked.To exist.We repeat.Again.Again.Again.Until it sticks.Every day.
Not a promise.Not a vibe.A discipline.We’re not “trying.”We’re not “waiting to see.”We’re not hoping the world calms down first.The world is on fire.It was yesterday.It will be tomorrow.So what now?We train.Not to feel ready.To stop shaking.We get visible.Not to be liked.To exist.We repeat.Again.Until it sticks.Every day.No excuses.No backing down.No big speeches.No moral cosplay.No Facebook posts to fake action.If it pisses you off — act.If it scares you — build.If it feels heavy — repeat until it doesn’t.
Variations around a recent text.---Either you transform yourself…or you become obsolete.Forget about war.We got better weapons: time… and machines.Midnight in the inbox, wolves at the door,Everybody screaming for a little bit more.I’m not here to bleed for a status parade,I’m here to delete what should’ve been made.Push-button pain, copy-paste life,Manual misery dressed up as “strife”.Nah— I’m rerouting the drain,Let the bots eat the mundane.If you cling to the old rules, you sink with the stone,No hero medals when you die on the phone.So I cut the noise, let the system run,Save my breath for the things that are fun.Either you transform, or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine,Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious, kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.I don’t want “hustle,” I want leverage and shade,I want afternoons where the brain gets paid.Let the scripts do dishes, let the agents reply,Let the calendar stop trying to make me die.We don’t need trenches, we need pipelines tight,Less human grinding, more human light.If the task is dumb, it’s going to a tool,I’m not your martyr, I’m not your mule.They call it cheating when you stop playing broke,Call it “lazy” when you dodge the choke.But laziness ain’t sin when it buys you space—That’s how you build a better place.Either you transform, or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine,Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious, kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.No flags, no fists, no glory parade,Just quiet upgrades in the choices we made.Take the weight off the world, one task at a time,Turn rust into rhythm, turn work into rhyme.And if they say “but suffering builds the soul”…Tell ’em: so does control.Forget about war.Build systems.Buy back hours.Make art.Either you transform (transform), or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine (no, no),Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious (automate), kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.Either you transform…or you become obsolete.So… create.
Variations around a recent text.---Either you transform yourself…or you become obsolete.Forget about war.We got better weapons: time… and machines.Midnight in the inbox, wolves at the door,Everybody screaming for a little bit more.I’m not here to bleed for a status parade,I’m here to delete what should’ve been made.Push-button pain, copy-paste life,Manual misery dressed up as “strife”.Nah— I’m rerouting the drain,Let the bots eat the mundane.If you cling to the old rules, you sink with the stone,No hero medals when you die on the phone.So I cut the noise, let the system run,Save my breath for the things that are fun.Either you transform, or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine,Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious, kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.I don’t want “hustle,” I want leverage and shade,I want afternoons where the brain gets paid.Let the scripts do dishes, let the agents reply,Let the calendar stop trying to make me die.We don’t need trenches, we need pipelines tight,Less human grinding, more human light.If the task is dumb, it’s going to a tool,I’m not your martyr, I’m not your mule.They call it cheating when you stop playing broke,Call it “lazy” when you dodge the choke.But laziness ain’t sin when it buys you space—That’s how you build a better place.Either you transform, or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine,Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious, kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.No flags, no fists, no glory parade,Just quiet upgrades in the choices we made.Take the weight off the world, one task at a time,Turn rust into rhythm, turn work into rhyme.And if they say “but suffering builds the soul”…Tell ’em: so does control.Forget about war.Build systems.Buy back hours.Make art.Either you transform (transform), or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine (no, no),Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious (automate), kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.Either you transform…or you become obsolete.So… create.
Variations around a recent text.---Either you transform yourself…or you become obsolete.Forget about war.We got better weapons: time… and machines.Midnight in the inbox, wolves at the door,Everybody screaming for a little bit more.I’m not here to bleed for a status parade,I’m here to delete what should’ve been made.Push-button pain, copy-paste life,Manual misery dressed up as “strife”.Nah— I’m rerouting the drain,Let the bots eat the mundane.If you cling to the old rules, you sink with the stone,No hero medals when you die on the phone.So I cut the noise, let the system run,Save my breath for the things that are fun.Either you transform, or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine,Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious, kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.I don’t want “hustle,” I want leverage and shade,I want afternoons where the brain gets paid.Let the scripts do dishes, let the agents reply,Let the calendar stop trying to make me die.We don’t need trenches, we need pipelines tight,Less human grinding, more human light.If the task is dumb, it’s going to a tool,I’m not your martyr, I’m not your mule.They call it cheating when you stop playing broke,Call it “lazy” when you dodge the choke.But laziness ain’t sin when it buys you space—That’s how you build a better place.Either you transform, or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine,Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious, kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.No flags, no fists, no glory parade,Just quiet upgrades in the choices we made.Take the weight off the world, one task at a time,Turn rust into rhythm, turn work into rhyme.And if they say “but suffering builds the soul”…Tell ’em: so does control.Forget about war.Build systems.Buy back hours.Make art.Either you transform (transform), or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine (no, no),Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious (automate), kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.Either you transform…or you become obsolete.So… create.
Variations around a recent text.---Either you transform yourself…or you become obsolete.Forget about war.We got better weapons: time… and machines.Midnight in the inbox, wolves at the door,Everybody screaming for a little bit more.I’m not here to bleed for a status parade,I’m here to delete what should’ve been made.Push-button pain, copy-paste life,Manual misery dressed up as “strife”.Nah— I’m rerouting the drain,Let the bots eat the mundane.If you cling to the old rules, you sink with the stone,No hero medals when you die on the phone.So I cut the noise, let the system run,Save my breath for the things that are fun.Either you transform, or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine,Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious, kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.I don’t want “hustle,” I want leverage and shade,I want afternoons where the brain gets paid.Let the scripts do dishes, let the agents reply,Let the calendar stop trying to make me die.We don’t need trenches, we need pipelines tight,Less human grinding, more human light.If the task is dumb, it’s going to a tool,I’m not your martyr, I’m not your mule.They call it cheating when you stop playing broke,Call it “lazy” when you dodge the choke.But laziness ain’t sin when it buys you space—That’s how you build a better place.Either you transform, or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine,Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious, kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.No flags, no fists, no glory parade,Just quiet upgrades in the choices we made.Take the weight off the world, one task at a time,Turn rust into rhythm, turn work into rhyme.And if they say “but suffering builds the soul”…Tell ’em: so does control.Forget about war.Build systems.Buy back hours.Make art.Either you transform (transform), or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine (no, no),Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious (automate), kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.Either you transform…or you become obsolete.So… create.
Variations around a recent text.---Either you transform yourself…or you become obsolete.Forget about war.We got better weapons: time… and machines.Midnight in the inbox, wolves at the door,Everybody screaming for a little bit more.I’m not here to bleed for a status parade,I’m here to delete what should’ve been made.Push-button pain, copy-paste life,Manual misery dressed up as “strife”.Nah— I’m rerouting the drain,Let the bots eat the mundane.If you cling to the old rules, you sink with the stone,No hero medals when you die on the phone.So I cut the noise, let the system run,Save my breath for the things that are fun.Either you transform, or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine,Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious, kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.I don’t want “hustle,” I want leverage and shade,I want afternoons where the brain gets paid.Let the scripts do dishes, let the agents reply,Let the calendar stop trying to make me die.We don’t need trenches, we need pipelines tight,Less human grinding, more human light.If the task is dumb, it’s going to a tool,I’m not your martyr, I’m not your mule.They call it cheating when you stop playing broke,Call it “lazy” when you dodge the choke.But laziness ain’t sin when it buys you space—That’s how you build a better place.Either you transform, or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine,Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious, kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.No flags, no fists, no glory parade,Just quiet upgrades in the choices we made.Take the weight off the world, one task at a time,Turn rust into rhythm, turn work into rhyme.And if they say “but suffering builds the soul”…Tell ’em: so does control.Forget about war.Build systems.Buy back hours.Make art.Either you transform (transform), or you fade out slow,Cold little ghost in the afterglow.Forget the war— don’t feed that machine (no, no),Lighten the world, keep the hands clean.Automate the tedious (automate), kill the chore,Save your laziness for creating more.Either you transform…or you become obsolete.So… create.
.D'autres préfèrent s'en tenir aux schémas antérieurs qui promettent monts et merveilles après la mort clinique.Et certains accumulent des fortunes colossales et des réseaux sociaux considérables pour retarder l'échéance, en espérant qu'un jour un énième savant fou leur vende à prix d'or une immortalité rêvée par l'ensemble des psychopathes ayant déjà épuisé le panel des plaisirs terrestres.La convergence entre physique, informatique, mécanique et biologie leur permet d'espérer à grande échelle, et les pousse à hâter le pas.A quand la réhabilitation de la paresse comme plus grande vertu humaine ?
.D'autres préfèrent s'en tenir aux schémas antérieurs qui promettent monts et merveilles après la mort clinique.Et certains accumulent des fortunes colossales et des réseaux sociaux considérables pour retarder l'échéance, en espérant qu'un jour un énième savant fou leur vende à prix d'or une immortalité rêvée par l'ensemble des psychopathes ayant déjà épuisé le panel des plaisirs terrestres.La convergence entre physique, informatique, mécanique et biologie leur permet d'espérer à grande échelle, et les pousse à hâter le pas.A quand la réhabilitation de la paresse comme plus grande vertu humaine ?
.D'autres préfèrent s'en tenir aux schémas antérieurs qui promettent monts et merveilles après la mort clinique.Et certains accumulent des fortunes colossales et des réseaux sociaux considérables pour retarder l'échéance, en espérant qu'un jour un énième savant fou leur vende à prix d'or une immortalité rêvée par l'ensemble des psychopathes ayant déjà épuisé le panel des plaisirs terrestres.La convergence entre physique, informatique, mécanique et biologie leur permet d'espérer à grande échelle, et les pousse à hâter le pas.A quand la réhabilitation de la paresse comme plus grande vertu humaine ?
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nc3PXLWyJDMI shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
I shipped a tank, UI made of nails,Go-core fortress, but it still fails—Not the server, not the load, not the stack,It’s the human hitting friction, snapping back.I preached KISS, DRY, “clean, correct,”While users ate error text and regret.Support isn’t tickets, docs, or pride—Support is the path where people don’t collide.[Chorus]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Cut the noise, cut the fat, cut the myth—Make it work, make it clear, make it swift.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.[Verse 2]I fished features “for them,” what a joke,They don’t want my fish, they want the boat.Onboarding in thirty seconds flat,Buttons that say what they do—imagine that.Errors that heal, not punch the face,Defaults that guide, not waste their days.If it doesn’t help today, it dies—No funeral, no meeting, no lies.[Bridge (half-time shout, then snap back)]No more ego-coded mazes.No more “power user” excuses.Humans first. Flow first.Then scale, then style, then whatever.[Final Chorus (double-time)]UX! Or it’s dead on arrival,UX! No more “read the manual,”Ship the passage, not the bragging rights—From “I quit” to “I get it” in one clean bite.UX! Serve or get out the way,Fifteen days, final sprint, no delays—If it’s hard, it’s wrong, that’s the proof:Make it smooth or burn the roof.
, tu partages, tu mets des avis sur la toile... C'est du boulot bénévole pour qu'ils aillent dans les étoiles ! T'es un paysan du pixel, un ouvrier du clic-droit, Pendant qu'ils pèsent des milliards, toi tu restes en bas, comme moi !Alors bon, le mec du texte, il dit qu'il faut acheter de l'or. Ou des Bitcoins. Ou des boîtes de conserve, je sais plus. Moi je dis, tant qu'on a de quoi boire un coup... Parce que vu qu'on est tous devenus des locataires de la vie... Autant ne pas payer le loyer !
We’re doom-drunk monkeys on a dying ride,pretending we’re immortal with panic inside.Some scream “flood it all once we’re gone!”,others buy heaven like a discount con.Then come the billionaires chasing endless nights,hoarding gold, worshipping lab-coat knights.Begging for upgrades to dodge the grave,psychos praying science will make them “save.”Physics, code, flesh in a frantic race,all trying to out-run death’s cold embrace.And me? I spit the only truth worth the fight:Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.
We’re doom-drunk monkeys on a dying ride,pretending we’re immortal with panic inside.Some scream “flood it all once we’re gone!”,others buy heaven like a discount con.Then come the billionaires chasing endless nights,hoarding gold, worshipping lab-coat knights.Begging for upgrades to dodge the grave,psychos praying science will make them “save.”Physics, code, flesh in a frantic race,all trying to out-run death’s cold embrace.And me? I spit the only truth worth the fight:Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.
We’re doom-drunk monkeys on a dying ride,pretending we’re immortal with panic inside.Some scream “flood it all once we’re gone!”,others buy heaven like a discount con.Then come the billionaires chasing endless nights,hoarding gold, worshipping lab-coat knights.Begging for upgrades to dodge the grave,psychos praying science will make them “save.”Physics, code, flesh in a frantic race,all trying to out-run death’s cold embrace.And me? I spit the only truth worth the fight:Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.
We’re doom-drunk monkeys on a dying ride,pretending we’re immortal with panic inside.Some scream “flood it all once we’re gone!”,others buy heaven like a discount con.Then come the billionaires chasing endless nights,hoarding gold, worshipping lab-coat knights.Begging for upgrades to dodge the grave,psychos praying science will make them “save.”Physics, code, flesh in a frantic race,all trying to out-run death’s cold embrace.And me? I spit the only truth worth the fight:Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.
We’re doom-drunk monkeys on a dying ride,pretending we’re immortal with panic inside.Some scream “flood it all once we’re gone!”,others buy heaven like a discount con.Then come the billionaires chasing endless nights,hoarding gold, worshipping lab-coat knights.Begging for upgrades to dodge the grave,psychos praying science will make them “save.”Physics, code, flesh in a frantic race,all trying to out-run death’s cold embrace.And me? I spit the only truth worth the fight:Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.
We’re doom-drunk monkeys on a dying ride,pretending we’re immortal with panic inside.Some scream “flood it all once we’re gone!”,others buy heaven like a discount con.Then come the billionaires chasing endless nights,hoarding gold, worshipping lab-coat knights.Begging for upgrades to dodge the grave,psychos praying science will make them “save.”Physics, code, flesh in a frantic race,all trying to out-run death’s cold embrace.And me? I spit the only truth worth the fight:Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.
We’re doom-drunk monkeys on a dying ride,pretending we’re immortal with panic inside.Some scream “flood it all once we’re gone!”,others buy heaven like a discount con.Then come the billionaires chasing endless nights,hoarding gold, worshipping lab-coat knights.Begging for upgrades to dodge the grave,psychos praying science will make them “save.”Physics, code, flesh in a frantic race,all trying to out-run death’s cold embrace.And me? I spit the only truth worth the fight:Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.
We’re doom-drunk monkeys on a dying ride,pretending we’re immortal with panic inside.Some scream “flood it all once we’re gone!”,others buy heaven like a discount con.Then come the billionaires chasing endless nights,hoarding gold, worshipping lab-coat knights.Begging for upgrades to dodge the grave,psychos praying science will make them “save.”Physics, code, flesh in a frantic race,all trying to out-run death’s cold embrace.And me? I spit the only truth worth the fight:Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.
We’re doom-drunk monkeys on a dying ride,pretending we’re immortal with panic inside.Some scream “flood it all once we’re gone!”,others buy heaven like a discount con.Then come the billionaires chasing endless nights,hoarding gold, worshipping lab-coat knights.Begging for upgrades to dodge the grave,psychos praying science will make them “save.”Physics, code, flesh in a frantic race,all trying to out-run death’s cold embrace.And me? I spit the only truth worth the fight:Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.
We’re doom-drunk monkeys on a dying ride,pretending we’re immortal with panic inside.Some scream “flood it all once we’re gone!”,others buy heaven like a discount con.Then come the billionaires chasing endless nights,hoarding gold, worshipping lab-coat knights.Begging for upgrades to dodge the grave,psychos praying science will make them “save.”Physics, code, flesh in a frantic race,all trying to out-run death’s cold embrace.And me? I spit the only truth worth the fight:Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.
We’re doom-drunk monkeys on a dying ride,pretending we’re immortal with panic inside.Some scream “flood it all once we’re gone!”,others buy heaven like a discount con.Then come the billionaires chasing endless nights,hoarding gold, worshipping lab-coat knights.Begging for upgrades to dodge the grave,psychos praying science will make them “save.”Physics, code, flesh in a frantic race,all trying to out-run death’s cold embrace.And me? I spit the only truth worth the fight:Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.Laziness is the virtue that burns the brightest light.
Everyone is a bastard in disguise when they let happen to others what they would never accept for themselves.There is a moment—always a moment—when the flames first flicker and the silence still has time to scream. It’s in that moment that history makes its quietest sound, before it starts marching.Look closely at this photograph. The fire is bright, but it isn’t just paper burning. It’s books, yes. But also names. Memories. Dignities. Ideas that dared to breathe. The hands raised in salute are not only pledging allegiance. They are surrendering their own judgment, one limb at a time.The men in the front believe they are doing good. The crowd behind believes it too—or simply finds it easier not to believe anything at all.History isn’t always made by monsters. Most times, it’s made by neighbors. By people who just wanted to keep their heads down. By those who said, “It’s not my problem.” By bureaucrats with tidy desks, and teachers who skipped a chapter, and clergy who nodded in silence.All of them had somewhere else to be. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to pretend.Where were you?This question isn’t for the past. It’s for right now. Every time we let our governments cage children, or watch refugees drown while holding smartphones, or scroll past a genocide dressed as “complex geopolitics,” we replay that moment. The fire flickers. The silence hums.“Never again” is a promise built on the corpses of those we ignored. And yet, again and again, we fail it. Not out of evil, but out of ease. Out of comfort. Out of the silent conviction that the worst things only happen far away—to other people.Where have you been?If the answer is: “I didn’t know,” then maybe ask yourself why you didn’t want to.Because the real horror is not that atrocities are committed. The real horror is that they are allowed.By people who, just like us, thought they were on the right side.
Everyone is a bastard in disguise when they let happen to others what they would never accept for themselves.There is a moment—always a moment—when the flames first flicker and the silence still has time to scream. It’s in that moment that history makes its quietest sound, before it starts marching.Look closely at this photograph. The fire is bright, but it isn’t just paper burning. It’s books, yes. But also names. Memories. Dignities. Ideas that dared to breathe. The hands raised in salute are not only pledging allegiance. They are surrendering their own judgment, one limb at a time.The men in the front believe they are doing good. The crowd behind believes it too—or simply finds it easier not to believe anything at all.History isn’t always made by monsters. Most times, it’s made by neighbors. By people who just wanted to keep their heads down. By those who said, “It’s not my problem.” By bureaucrats with tidy desks, and teachers who skipped a chapter, and clergy who nodded in silence.All of them had somewhere else to be. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to pretend.Where were you?This question isn’t for the past. It’s for right now. Every time we let our governments cage children, or watch refugees drown while holding smartphones, or scroll past a genocide dressed as “complex geopolitics,” we replay that moment. The fire flickers. The silence hums.“Never again” is a promise built on the corpses of those we ignored. And yet, again and again, we fail it. Not out of evil, but out of ease. Out of comfort. Out of the silent conviction that the worst things only happen far away—to other people.Where have you been?If the answer is: “I didn’t know,” then maybe ask yourself why you didn’t want to.Because the real horror is not that atrocities are committed. The real horror is that they are allowed.By people who, just like us, thought they were on the right side.
Everyone is a bastard in disguise when they let happen to others what they would never accept for themselves.There is a moment—always a moment—when the flames first flicker and the silence still has time to scream. It’s in that moment that history makes its quietest sound, before it starts marching.Look closely at this photograph. The fire is bright, but it isn’t just paper burning. It’s books, yes. But also names. Memories. Dignities. Ideas that dared to breathe. The hands raised in salute are not only pledging allegiance. They are surrendering their own judgment, one limb at a time.The men in the front believe they are doing good. The crowd behind believes it too—or simply finds it easier not to believe anything at all.History isn’t always made by monsters. Most times, it’s made by neighbors. By people who just wanted to keep their heads down. By those who said, “It’s not my problem.” By bureaucrats with tidy desks, and teachers who skipped a chapter, and clergy who nodded in silence.All of them had somewhere else to be. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to pretend.Where were you?This question isn’t for the past. It’s for right now. Every time we let our governments cage children, or watch refugees drown while holding smartphones, or scroll past a genocide dressed as “complex geopolitics,” we replay that moment. The fire flickers. The silence hums.“Never again” is a promise built on the corpses of those we ignored. And yet, again and again, we fail it. Not out of evil, but out of ease. Out of comfort. Out of the silent conviction that the worst things only happen far away—to other people.Where have you been?If the answer is: “I didn’t know,” then maybe ask yourself why you didn’t want to.Because the real horror is not that atrocities are committed. The real horror is that they are allowed.By people who, just like us, thought they were on the right side.
Everyone is a bastard in disguise when they let happen to others what they would never accept for themselves.There is a moment—always a moment—when the flames first flicker and the silence still has time to scream. It’s in that moment that history makes its quietest sound, before it starts marching.Look closely at this photograph. The fire is bright, but it isn’t just paper burning. It’s books, yes. But also names. Memories. Dignities. Ideas that dared to breathe. The hands raised in salute are not only pledging allegiance. They are surrendering their own judgment, one limb at a time.The men in the front believe they are doing good. The crowd behind believes it too—or simply finds it easier not to believe anything at all.History isn’t always made by monsters. Most times, it’s made by neighbors. By people who just wanted to keep their heads down. By those who said, “It’s not my problem.” By bureaucrats with tidy desks, and teachers who skipped a chapter, and clergy who nodded in silence.All of them had somewhere else to be. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to pretend.Where were you?This question isn’t for the past. It’s for right now. Every time we let our governments cage children, or watch refugees drown while holding smartphones, or scroll past a genocide dressed as “complex geopolitics,” we replay that moment. The fire flickers. The silence hums.“Never again” is a promise built on the corpses of those we ignored. And yet, again and again, we fail it. Not out of evil, but out of ease. Out of comfort. Out of the silent conviction that the worst things only happen far away—to other people.Where have you been?If the answer is: “I didn’t know,” then maybe ask yourself why you didn’t want to.Because the real horror is not that atrocities are committed. The real horror is that they are allowed.By people who, just like us, thought they were on the right side.
Everyone is a bastard in disguise when they let happen to others what they would never accept for themselves.There is a moment—always a moment—when the flames first flicker and the silence still has time to scream. It’s in that moment that history makes its quietest sound, before it starts marching.Look closely at this photograph. The fire is bright, but it isn’t just paper burning. It’s books, yes. But also names. Memories. Dignities. Ideas that dared to breathe. The hands raised in salute are not only pledging allegiance. They are surrendering their own judgment, one limb at a time.The men in the front believe they are doing good. The crowd behind believes it too—or simply finds it easier not to believe anything at all.History isn’t always made by monsters. Most times, it’s made by neighbors. By people who just wanted to keep their heads down. By those who said, “It’s not my problem.” By bureaucrats with tidy desks, and teachers who skipped a chapter, and clergy who nodded in silence.All of them had somewhere else to be. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to pretend.Where were you?This question isn’t for the past. It’s for right now. Every time we let our governments cage children, or watch refugees drown while holding smartphones, or scroll past a genocide dressed as “complex geopolitics,” we replay that moment. The fire flickers. The silence hums.“Never again” is a promise built on the corpses of those we ignored. And yet, again and again, we fail it. Not out of evil, but out of ease. Out of comfort. Out of the silent conviction that the worst things only happen far away—to other people.Where have you been?If the answer is: “I didn’t know,” then maybe ask yourself why you didn’t want to.Because the real horror is not that atrocities are committed. The real horror is that they are allowed.By people who, just like us, thought they were on the right side.
Everyone is a bastard in disguise when they let happen to others what they would never accept for themselves.There is a moment—always a moment—when the flames first flicker and the silence still has time to scream. It’s in that moment that history makes its quietest sound, before it starts marching.Look closely at this photograph. The fire is bright, but it isn’t just paper burning. It’s books, yes. But also names. Memories. Dignities. Ideas that dared to breathe. The hands raised in salute are not only pledging allegiance. They are surrendering their own judgment, one limb at a time.The men in the front believe they are doing good. The crowd behind believes it too—or simply finds it easier not to believe anything at all.History isn’t always made by monsters. Most times, it’s made by neighbors. By people who just wanted to keep their heads down. By those who said, “It’s not my problem.” By bureaucrats with tidy desks, and teachers who skipped a chapter, and clergy who nodded in silence.All of them had somewhere else to be. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to pretend.Where were you?This question isn’t for the past. It’s for right now. Every time we let our governments cage children, or watch refugees drown while holding smartphones, or scroll past a genocide dressed as “complex geopolitics,” we replay that moment. The fire flickers. The silence hums.“Never again” is a promise built on the corpses of those we ignored. And yet, again and again, we fail it. Not out of evil, but out of ease. Out of comfort. Out of the silent conviction that the worst things only happen far away—to other people.Where have you been?If the answer is: “I didn’t know,” then maybe ask yourself why you didn’t want to.Because the real horror is not that atrocities are committed. The real horror is that they are allowed.By people who, just like us, thought they were on the right side.
Everyone is a bastard in disguise when they let happen to others what they would never accept for themselves.There is a moment—always a moment—when the flames first flicker and the silence still has time to scream. It’s in that moment that history makes its quietest sound, before it starts marching.Look closely at this photograph. The fire is bright, but it isn’t just paper burning. It’s books, yes. But also names. Memories. Dignities. Ideas that dared to breathe. The hands raised in salute are not only pledging allegiance. They are surrendering their own judgment, one limb at a time.The men in the front believe they are doing good. The crowd behind believes it too—or simply finds it easier not to believe anything at all.History isn’t always made by monsters. Most times, it’s made by neighbors. By people who just wanted to keep their heads down. By those who said, “It’s not my problem.” By bureaucrats with tidy desks, and teachers who skipped a chapter, and clergy who nodded in silence.All of them had somewhere else to be. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to pretend.Where were you?This question isn’t for the past. It’s for right now. Every time we let our governments cage children, or watch refugees drown while holding smartphones, or scroll past a genocide dressed as “complex geopolitics,” we replay that moment. The fire flickers. The silence hums.“Never again” is a promise built on the corpses of those we ignored. And yet, again and again, we fail it. Not out of evil, but out of ease. Out of comfort. Out of the silent conviction that the worst things only happen far away—to other people.Where have you been?If the answer is: “I didn’t know,” then maybe ask yourself why you didn’t want to.Because the real horror is not that atrocities are committed. The real horror is that they are allowed.By people who, just like us, thought they were on the right side.
Everyone is a bastard in disguise when they let happen to others what they would never accept for themselves.There is a moment—always a moment—when the flames first flicker and the silence still has time to scream. It’s in that moment that history makes its quietest sound, before it starts marching.Look closely at this photograph. The fire is bright, but it isn’t just paper burning. It’s books, yes. But also names. Memories. Dignities. Ideas that dared to breathe. The hands raised in salute are not only pledging allegiance. They are surrendering their own judgment, one limb at a time.The men in the front believe they are doing good. The crowd behind believes it too—or simply finds it easier not to believe anything at all.History isn’t always made by monsters. Most times, it’s made by neighbors. By people who just wanted to keep their heads down. By those who said, “It’s not my problem.” By bureaucrats with tidy desks, and teachers who skipped a chapter, and clergy who nodded in silence.All of them had somewhere else to be. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to pretend.Where were you?This question isn’t for the past. It’s for right now. Every time we let our governments cage children, or watch refugees drown while holding smartphones, or scroll past a genocide dressed as “complex geopolitics,” we replay that moment. The fire flickers. The silence hums.“Never again” is a promise built on the corpses of those we ignored. And yet, again and again, we fail it. Not out of evil, but out of ease. Out of comfort. Out of the silent conviction that the worst things only happen far away—to other people.Where have you been?If the answer is: “I didn’t know,” then maybe ask yourself why you didn’t want to.Because the real horror is not that atrocities are committed. The real horror is that they are allowed.By people who, just like us, thought they were on the right side.
Everyone is a bastard in disguise when they let happen to others what they would never accept for themselves.There is a moment—always a moment—when the flames first flicker and the silence still has time to scream. It’s in that moment that history makes its quietest sound, before it starts marching.Look closely at this photograph. The fire is bright, but it isn’t just paper burning. It’s books, yes. But also names. Memories. Dignities. Ideas that dared to breathe. The hands raised in salute are not only pledging allegiance. They are surrendering their own judgment, one limb at a time.The men in the front believe they are doing good. The crowd behind believes it too—or simply finds it easier not to believe anything at all.History isn’t always made by monsters. Most times, it’s made by neighbors. By people who just wanted to keep their heads down. By those who said, “It’s not my problem.” By bureaucrats with tidy desks, and teachers who skipped a chapter, and clergy who nodded in silence.All of them had somewhere else to be. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to pretend.Where were you?This question isn’t for the past. It’s for right now. Every time we let our governments cage children, or watch refugees drown while holding smartphones, or scroll past a genocide dressed as “complex geopolitics,” we replay that moment. The fire flickers. The silence hums.“Never again” is a promise built on the corpses of those we ignored. And yet, again and again, we fail it. Not out of evil, but out of ease. Out of comfort. Out of the silent conviction that the worst things only happen far away—to other people.Where have you been?If the answer is: “I didn’t know,” then maybe ask yourself why you didn’t want to.Because the real horror is not that atrocities are committed. The real horror is that they are allowed.By people who, just like us, thought they were on the right side.
Everyone is a bastard in disguiseHistory isn’t always made by monsters. Most times, it’s made by neighbors. By people who just wanted to keep their heads down. By those who said, “It’s not my problem.” By bureaucrats with tidy desks, and teachers who skipped a chapter, and clergy who nodded in silence.Everyone is a bastard in disguiseWhere were you?This question isn’t for the past. It’s for right now. Every time we let our governments cage children, or watch refugees drown while holding smartphones, or scroll past a genocide dressed as “complex geopolitics,” we replay that moment. The fire flickers. The silence hums.Everyone is a bastard in disguise“Never again” is a promise built on the corpses of those we ignored. And yet, again and again, we fail it. Not out of evil, but out of ease. Out of comfort. Out of the silent conviction that the worst things only happen far away—to other people.Everyone is a bastard in disguiseWhere have you been?If the answer is: “I didn’t know,” then maybe ask yourself why you didn’t want to.Because the real horror is not that atrocities are committed. The real horror is that they are allowed.By people who, just like us, thought they were on the right side.Everyone is a bastard in disguise
Audacity---What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little worldThere's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another moleHe's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
Audacity---What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little worldThere's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another moleHe's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
Audacity---What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little worldThere's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another moleHe's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
Audacity---What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little worldThere's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another moleHe's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
Audacity---What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little worldThere's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another moleHe's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
Audacity---What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little worldThere's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another moleHe's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
(covers)Lyrics------Sous le ciel de Paris, je me pavane, d’un pas désinvolte,Je m'débat, je couvre mon arrogance d'un air de fausse révolte.Je critique d'un rire moqueur la province et ses charmes,Paris est mon prétexte, je la porte comme une arme.Je râle, sur tout et rien, sans aucune compassion,Médias et gouvernement, seules sources de mes opinions.Je délègue depuis l'école l'usage de la réflexionRestera ma plus belle inventionSans conteste la collaboration
tirons gentiment la langue à certains cercles parisiano-centrés dans un pays malade de centralisme néo-colonialLyrics------Sous le ciel de Paris, je me pavane, d’un pas désinvolte,Je m'débats, je couvre mon arrogance d'un air de fausse révolte.Je critique d'un rire moqueur la province et ses charmes,Paris est mon prétexte, je la porte comme une arme.Je râle, sur tout et rien, sans aucune compassion,Médias et gouvernement, seules sources de mes opinions.Je délègue depuis l'école l'usage de la réflexionRestera ma plus belle inventionSans conteste la collaboration
tirons gentiment la langue à certains cercles parisiano-centrés dans un pays malade de centralisme néo-colonialLyrics------Sous le ciel de Paris, je me pavane, d’un pas désinvolte,Je m'débat, je couvre mon arrogance d'un air de fausse révolte.Je critique d'un rire moqueur la province et ses charmes,Paris est mon prétexte, je la porte comme une arme.Je râle, sur tout et rien, sans aucune compassion,Médias et gouvernement, seules sources de mes opinions.Je délègue depuis l'école l'usage de la réflexionRestera ma plus belle inventionSans conteste la collaboration
Monsieur le PrésidentJe vous fais une lettreQue vous lirez peut-êtreSi vous avez le tempsJe viens de recevoirMes papiers militairesPour partir à la guerreAvant mercredi soirMonsieur le PrésidentJe ne veux pas la faireJe ne suis pas sur terrePour tuer des pauvres gensC’est pas pour vous fâcherIl faut que je vous diseMa décision est priseJe m’en vais déserterDepuis que je suis néJ’ai vu mourir mon pèreJ’ai vu partir mes frèresEt pleurer mes enfantsMa mère a tant souffertElle est dedans sa tombeEt se moque des bombesEt se moque des versQuand j’étais prisonnierOn m’a volé ma femmeOn m’a volé mon âmeEt tout mon cher passéDemain de bon matinJe fermerai ma porteAu nez des années mortesJ’irai sur les cheminsJe mendierai ma vieSur les routes de FranceDe Bretagne en ProvenceEt je dirai aux gens:Refusez d’obéirRefusez de la faireN’allez pas à la guerreRefusez de partirS’il faut donner son sangAllez donner le vôtreVous êtes bon apôtreMonsieur le PrésidentSi vous me poursuivezPrévenez vos gendarmesQue je tiendrai une arme, Et que je sais tirer
Monsieur le PrésidentJe vous fais une lettreQue vous lirez peut-êtreSi vous avez le tempsJe viens de recevoirMes papiers militairesPour partir à la guerreAvant mercredi soirMonsieur le PrésidentJe ne veux pas la faireJe ne suis pas sur terrePour tuer des pauvres gensC’est pas pour vous fâcherIl faut que je vous diseMa décision est priseJe m’en vais déserterDepuis que je suis néJ’ai vu mourir mon pèreJ’ai vu partir mes frèresEt pleurer mes enfantsMa mère a tant souffertElle est dedans sa tombeEt se moque des bombesEt se moque des versQuand j’étais prisonnierOn m’a volé ma femmeOn m’a volé mon âmeEt tout mon cher passéDemain de bon matinJe fermerai ma porteAu nez des années mortesJ’irai sur les cheminsJe mendierai ma vieSur les routes de FranceDe Bretagne en ProvenceEt je dirai aux gens:Refusez d’obéirRefusez de la faireN’allez pas à la guerreRefusez de partirS’il faut donner son sangAllez donner le vôtreVous êtes bon apôtreMonsieur le PrésidentSi vous me poursuivezPrévenez vos gendarmesQue je tiendrai une arme, Et que je sais tirer
We don’t march as armies, we don’t move as pawns. We rise as voices, we break their thrones. Storms can’t rule us, bullets can’t bind. One billion hearts beat in one time. Hands up—peace is the weapon. Voices—louder than guns. Let the kings fight in Alaska, we walk free under one They trade with fear, they gamble with lives. We write new codes, we patch, we thrive. Kids paint the walls where tanks once stayed. Laughter is louder— sirens fade. Hands up—peace is the weapon. Voices—louder than guns. Let the kings fight in Alaska, we walk free under one sun. No more borders, no more kings. History blinks, a new song begins. Dreams untaxed, shared in the light. The people chose— and the world chose right.
We don’t march as armies, we don’t move as pawns. We rise as voices, we break their thrones. Storms can’t rule us, bullets can’t bind. One billion hearts beat in one time. Hands up—peace is the weapon. Voices—louder than guns. Let the kings fight in Alaska, we walk free under one They trade with fear, they gamble with lives. We write new codes, we patch, we thrive. Kids paint the walls where tanks once stayed. Laughter is louder— sirens fade. Hands up—peace is the weapon. Voices—louder than guns. Let the kings fight in Alaska, we walk free under one sun. No more borders, no more kings. History blinks, a new song begins. Dreams untaxed, shared in the light. The people chose— and the world chose right.
We don’t march as armies, we don’t move as pawns. We rise as voices, we break their thrones. Storms can’t rule us, bullets can’t bind. One billion hearts beat in one time. Hands up—peace is the weapon. Voices—louder than guns. Let the kings fight in Alaska, we walk free under one They trade with fear, they gamble with lives. We write new codes, we patch, we thrive. Kids paint the walls where tanks once stayed. Laughter is louder— sirens fade. Hands up—peace is the weapon. Voices—louder than guns. Let the kings fight in Alaska, we walk free under one sun. No more borders, no more kings. History blinks, a new song begins. Dreams untaxed, shared in the light. The people chose— and the world chose right.
We don’t march as armies, we don’t move as pawns. We rise as voices, we break their thrones. Storms can’t rule us, bullets can’t bind. One billion hearts beat in one time. Hands up—peace is the weapon. Voices—louder than guns. Let the kings fight in Alaska, we walk free under one They trade with fear, they gamble with lives. We write new codes, we patch, we thrive. Kids paint the walls where tanks once stayed. Laughter is louder— sirens fade. Hands up—peace is the weapon. Voices—louder than guns. Let the kings fight in Alaska, we walk free under one sun. No more borders, no more kings. History blinks, a new song begins. Dreams untaxed, shared in the light. The people chose— and the world chose right.
Pay what you want, tip jar, no chain on the art,Keep the soul in the track, keep the suits in the dark.Goodies, collector—press run, glow in the black,Pay what you want, tip jar, no chain on the art,Keep the soul in the track, keep the suits in the dark.Goodies, collector—press run, glow in the black,Each life, each path—own your pennies and plaques.We cut middlemen like hiss on a tape,NadaProd banner, raw code, clean shape.Subvert in the chamber, manifesto on wax,Ownership points when the crowd hits “back.”Modulisme crates, patch cables like veins,Analog thunder still shaking the mains.No exit-to-VC, no switch-up, no cap—Just hands in the dirt and a world on your lap.Pay what you want, tip jar, no chain on the art,Keep the soul in the track, keep the suits in the dark.Goodies, collector—press run, glow in the black,Each life, each path—own your pennies and plaques.Bandcamp burned, we learned—never lease your flame,We ship from the street with your name on the frame.Price free, spirit free, let the people decide,From zines to the tees, put the myth to the side.No gods, no gate, no fake algorithm,Just trust, clean splits, and a fan-first rhythm.If it feeds your kids and it feeds your muse,Then that’s the deal—your rules, you choose.Cut the fat, keep the art—No parasite hand on the heart.DIY to the bone, loud and known,Brick by brick till the house is your own.Pay what you want, tip jar, no chain on the art,Keep the soul in the track, keep the suits in the dark.Goodies, collector—press run, glow in the black,Each life, each path—own your pennies and plaques.
The heat is fading, the clock keeps on turning,Summer’s ashes fall, but my fire’s still burning.No room for excuses, no weight to defend,I cut through the noise, I begin where I end.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Deadlines whisper, but I shout much louder,Fear is a ghost, I grow bolder, prouder.Every strike I take, I carve my way,No chains, no doubt, I own this day.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Pressure’s a hammer, but I’m forged in the flame,The weight on my shoulders just sharpens my aim.No past can bind me, no storm can remain,I rise with the season, I break every chain.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.This is the moment, this is the fight,I step into autumn with a blade of light.
The heat is fading, the clock keeps on turning,Summer’s ashes fall, but my fire’s still burning.No room for excuses, no weight to defend,I cut through the noise, I begin where I end.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Deadlines whisper, but I shout much louder,Fear is a ghost, I grow bolder, prouder.Every strike I take, I carve my way,No chains, no doubt, I own this day.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Pressure’s a hammer, but I’m forged in the flame,The weight on my shoulders just sharpens my aim.No past can bind me, no storm can remain,I rise with the season, I break every chain.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.This is the moment, this is the fight,I step into autumn with a blade of light.
The heat is fading, the clock keeps on turning,Summer’s ashes fall, but my fire’s still burning.No room for excuses, no weight to defend,I cut through the noise, I begin where I end.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Deadlines whisper, but I shout much louder,Fear is a ghost, I grow bolder, prouder.Every strike I take, I carve my way,No chains, no doubt, I own this day.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Pressure’s a hammer, but I’m forged in the flame,The weight on my shoulders just sharpens my aim.No past can bind me, no storm can remain,I rise with the season, I break every chain.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.This is the moment, this is the fight,I step into autumn with a blade of light.
The heat is fading, the clock keeps on turning,Summer’s ashes fall, but my fire’s still burning.No room for excuses, no weight to defend,I cut through the noise, I begin where I end.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Deadlines whisper, but I shout much louder,Fear is a ghost, I grow bolder, prouder.Every strike I take, I carve my way,No chains, no doubt, I own this day.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Pressure’s a hammer, but I’m forged in the flame,The weight on my shoulders just sharpens my aim.No past can bind me, no storm can remain,I rise with the season, I break every chain.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.This is the moment, this is the fight,I step into autumn with a blade of light.
The heat is fading, the clock keeps on turning,Summer’s ashes fall, but my fire’s still burning.No room for excuses, no weight to defend,I cut through the noise, I begin where I end.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Deadlines whisper, but I shout much louder,Fear is a ghost, I grow bolder, prouder.Every strike I take, I carve my way,No chains, no doubt, I own this day.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Pressure’s a hammer, but I’m forged in the flame,The weight on my shoulders just sharpens my aim.No past can bind me, no storm can remain,I rise with the season, I break every chain.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.This is the moment, this is the fight,I step into autumn with a blade of light.
The heat is fading, the clock keeps on turning,Summer’s ashes fall, but my fire’s still burning.No room for excuses, no weight to defend,I cut through the noise, I begin where I end.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Deadlines whisper, but I shout much louder,Fear is a ghost, I grow bolder, prouder.Every strike I take, I carve my way,No chains, no doubt, I own this day.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Pressure’s a hammer, but I’m forged in the flame,The weight on my shoulders just sharpens my aim.No past can bind me, no storm can remain,I rise with the season, I break every chain.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.This is the moment, this is the fight,I step into autumn with a blade of light.
The heat is fading, the clock keeps on turning,Summer’s ashes fall, but my fire’s still burning.No room for excuses, no weight to defend,I cut through the noise, I begin where I end.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Deadlines whisper, but I shout much louder,Fear is a ghost, I grow bolder, prouder.Every strike I take, I carve my way,No chains, no doubt, I own this day.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Pressure’s a hammer, but I’m forged in the flame,The weight on my shoulders just sharpens my aim.No past can bind me, no storm can remain,I rise with the season, I break every chain.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.This is the moment, this is the fight,I step into autumn with a blade of light.
The heat is fading, the clock keeps on turning,Summer’s ashes fall, but my fire’s still burning.No room for excuses, no weight to defend,I cut through the noise, I begin where I end.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Deadlines whisper, but I shout much louder,Fear is a ghost, I grow bolder, prouder.Every strike I take, I carve my way,No chains, no doubt, I own this day.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Pressure’s a hammer, but I’m forged in the flame,The weight on my shoulders just sharpens my aim.No past can bind me, no storm can remain,I rise with the season, I break every chain.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.This is the moment, this is the fight,I step into autumn with a blade of light.
The heat is fading, the clock keeps on turning,Summer’s ashes fall, but my fire’s still burning.No room for excuses, no weight to defend,I cut through the noise, I begin where I end.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Deadlines whisper, but I shout much louder,Fear is a ghost, I grow bolder, prouder.Every strike I take, I carve my way,No chains, no doubt, I own this day.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Pressure’s a hammer, but I’m forged in the flame,The weight on my shoulders just sharpens my aim.No past can bind me, no storm can remain,I rise with the season, I break every chain.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.This is the moment, this is the fight,I step into autumn with a blade of light.
The heat is fading, the clock keeps on turning,Summer’s ashes fall, but my fire’s still burning.No room for excuses, no weight to defend,I cut through the noise, I begin where I end.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Deadlines whisper, but I shout much louder,Fear is a ghost, I grow bolder, prouder.Every strike I take, I carve my way,No chains, no doubt, I own this day.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.No more waiting, no disguise,I walk the edge with open eyes.Pressure’s a hammer, but I’m forged in the flame,The weight on my shoulders just sharpens my aim.No past can bind me, no storm can remain,I rise with the season, I break every chain.Stand up, shake the rust,Burn the dust, rebuild the trust.This is the moment, this is the fight,I step into autumn with a blade of light.
I’m feeling all aloneMeanwhile everybody’s around meLaughter echoes like a stormBut it never seems to drown meEvery face is chasing timeEvery soul is lost in motionI’m just trying to find a signLike a bottle on the oceanMemories burn, they’re calling me backTo a place I can’t return, but I still retrace the tracksNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allPages turning, hearts collideHistory repeats in shadowsI’ve been running all my lifeThrough the ruins, through the echoesThe silence screams louder than the crowdBut I keep moving forward, I won’t lay downNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allIf there’s a light beyond the hazeIf there’s a peace beyond the rageI’ll keep walking, I’ll keep dreamingEven bleeding, I’ll keep singingNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allYeah, I’m still standing, still standing through it all
I’m feeling all aloneMeanwhile everybody’s around meLaughter echoes like a stormBut it never seems to drown meEvery face is chasing timeEvery soul is lost in motionI’m just trying to find a signLike a bottle on the oceanMemories burn, they’re calling me backTo a place I can’t return, but I still retrace the tracksNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allPages turning, hearts collideHistory repeats in shadowsI’ve been running all my lifeThrough the ruins, through the echoesThe silence screams louder than the crowdBut I keep moving forward, I won’t lay downNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allIf there’s a light beyond the hazeIf there’s a peace beyond the rageI’ll keep walking, I’ll keep dreamingEven bleeding, I’ll keep singingNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allYeah, I’m still standing, still standing through it all
I’m feeling all aloneMeanwhile everybody’s around meLaughter echoes like a stormBut it never seems to drown meEvery face is chasing timeEvery soul is lost in motionI’m just trying to find a signLike a bottle on the oceanMemories burn, they’re calling me backTo a place I can’t return, but I still retrace the tracksNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allPages turning, hearts collideHistory repeats in shadowsI’ve been running all my lifeThrough the ruins, through the echoesThe silence screams louder than the crowdBut I keep moving forward, I won’t lay downNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allIf there’s a light beyond the hazeIf there’s a peace beyond the rageI’ll keep walking, I’ll keep dreamingEven bleeding, I’ll keep singingNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allYeah, I’m still standing, still standing through it all
I’m feeling all aloneMeanwhile everybody’s around meLaughter echoes like a stormBut it never seems to drown meEvery face is chasing timeEvery soul is lost in motionI’m just trying to find a signLike a bottle on the oceanMemories burn, they’re calling me backTo a place I can’t return, but I still retrace the tracksNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allPages turning, hearts collideHistory repeats in shadowsI’ve been running all my lifeThrough the ruins, through the echoesThe silence screams louder than the crowdBut I keep moving forward, I won’t lay downNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allIf there’s a light beyond the hazeIf there’s a peace beyond the rageI’ll keep walking, I’ll keep dreamingEven bleeding, I’ll keep singingNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allYeah, I’m still standing, still standing through it all
I’m feeling all aloneMeanwhile everybody’s around meLaughter echoes like a stormBut it never seems to drown meEvery face is chasing timeEvery soul is lost in motionI’m just trying to find a signLike a bottle on the oceanMemories burn, they’re calling me backTo a place I can’t return, but I still retrace the tracksNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allPages turning, hearts collideHistory repeats in shadowsI’ve been running all my lifeThrough the ruins, through the echoesThe silence screams louder than the crowdBut I keep moving forward, I won’t lay downNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allIf there’s a light beyond the hazeIf there’s a peace beyond the rageI’ll keep walking, I’ll keep dreamingEven bleeding, I’ll keep singingNostalgia cuts deep in my veinsSearching for serenity through the painIn a hard war world, I’m still standing tallTrying to remember if I belong at allYeah, I’m still standing, still standing through it all
I was idling in the shadows,Heart half-asleep, days on repeat.Smoke in my lungs, rust in my bones,Time was grinding me down, slow and sweet.But I hit the road,Let the blacktop bite,My blood caught fire,My soul took flight.I’m riding hard with the wind in my veins,Every push of the pedal rewinds the days.Heart on fire, breath like thunder,I’m screaming my resurrection into the wonder.Forty-eight hours, I’m a brand new man,Legs are screaming, lungs don’t care.The colors came back, sharp and loud,I’m alive, goddamn, and I’m not scared.Every drop of sweatWashes off the years.The pain’s the truth,The ride’s the cure.I’m riding hard with the wind in my veins,Burning the miles like they’re made of flame.Heart on fire, breath like thunder,I’m screaming my resurrection into the wonder.
I was idling in the shadows,Heart half-asleep, days on repeat.Smoke in my lungs, rust in my bones,Time was grinding me down, slow and sweet.But I hit the road,Let the blacktop bite,My blood caught fire,My soul took flight.I’m riding hard with the wind in my veins,Every push of the pedal rewinds the days.Heart on fire, breath like thunder,I’m screaming my resurrection into the wonder.Forty-eight hours, I’m a brand new man,Legs are screaming, lungs don’t care.The colors came back, sharp and loud,I’m alive, goddamn, and I’m not scared.Every drop of sweatWashes off the years.The pain’s the truth,The ride’s the cure.I’m riding hard with the wind in my veins,Burning the miles like they’re made of flame.Heart on fire, breath like thunder,I’m screaming my resurrection into the wonder.
I was idling in the shadows,Heart half-asleep, days on repeat.Smoke in my lungs, rust in my bones,Time was grinding me down, slow and sweet.But I hit the road,Let the blacktop bite,My blood caught fire,My soul took flight.I’m riding hard with the wind in my veins,Every push of the pedal rewinds the days.Heart on fire, breath like thunder,I’m screaming my resurrection into the wonder.Forty-eight hours, I’m a brand new man,Legs are screaming, lungs don’t care.The colors came back, sharp and loud,I’m alive, goddamn, and I’m not scared.Every drop of sweatWashes off the years.The pain’s the truth,The ride’s the cure.I’m riding hard with the wind in my veins,Burning the miles like they’re made of flame.Heart on fire, breath like thunder,I’m screaming my resurrection into the wonder.
I was idling in the shadows,Heart half-asleep, days on repeat.Smoke in my lungs, rust in my bones,Time was grinding me down, slow and sweet.But I hit the road,Let the blacktop bite,My blood caught fire,My soul took flight.I’m riding hard with the wind in my veins,Every push of the pedal rewinds the days.Heart on fire, breath like thunder,I’m screaming my resurrection into the wonder.Forty-eight hours, I’m a brand new man,Legs are screaming, lungs don’t care.The colors came back, sharp and loud,I’m alive, goddamn, and I’m not scared.Every drop of sweatWashes off the years.The pain’s the truth,The ride’s the cure.I’m riding hard with the wind in my veins,Burning the miles like they’re made of flame.Heart on fire, breath like thunder,I’m screaming my resurrection into the wonder.
Holy fuck, the code’s alive,Built a brain that self-devised.Not a tweak, not a patch, not a goddamn clone—It writes new laws from a silicon throne.Researcher dreams in logic and fire,Engineer loops in a deathless spire,Analyst cuts through the data sea—Three cold minds, no need for me.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.1773 wild runs,20K hours under GPU suns.From scratch it builds, no mentor hand,Architects of the post-human land.Forget your PhDs, your proud debates—It loops, refines, and replicates.Move 37 in every line,Each model born to redefine.They mapped discovery itself,A linear law across compute wealth.Double the juice? Double the strike.Progress is clock speed now, not a mind’s hike.Not wild ideas but trial-born grace—The best designs from a learning trace.Originality’s a dead man’s crown,Experience scaled now wears the gown.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.They open-sourced the holy flames,Apache license, no restrains.Gave the keys to every street—Rebels and nerds with lightning feet.Universities with broken gearNow wield tools giants used in fear.Innovation's off the leash,Prepare the tombstone for the priest.Human mind—once top of chain,Now a whisper in the data rain.The age of agentic dawns in chrome,And we no longer stand alone.Buy the ticket, ride the wave,But don’t expect the world you crave.This ride’s been set, this track is laid—And the ghost in the code just got paid.
Holy fuck, the code’s alive,Built a brain that self-devised.Not a tweak, not a patch, not a goddamn clone—It writes new laws from a silicon throne.Researcher dreams in logic and fire,Engineer loops in a deathless spire,Analyst cuts through the data sea—Three cold minds, no need for me.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.1773 wild runs,20K hours under GPU suns.From scratch it builds, no mentor hand,Architects of the post-human land.Forget your PhDs, your proud debates—It loops, refines, and replicates.Move 37 in every line,Each model born to redefine.They mapped discovery itself,A linear law across compute wealth.Double the juice? Double the strike.Progress is clock speed now, not a mind’s hike.Not wild ideas but trial-born grace—The best designs from a learning trace.Originality’s a dead man’s crown,Experience scaled now wears the gown.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.They open-sourced the holy flames,Apache license, no restrains.Gave the keys to every street—Rebels and nerds with lightning feet.Universities with broken gearNow wield tools giants used in fear.Innovation's off the leash,Prepare the tombstone for the priest.Human mind—once top of chain,Now a whisper in the data rain.The age of agentic dawns in chrome,And we no longer stand alone.Buy the ticket, ride the wave,But don’t expect the world you crave.This ride’s been set, this track is laid—And the ghost in the code just got paid.
Holy fuck, the code’s alive,Built a brain that self-devised.Not a tweak, not a patch, not a goddamn clone—It writes new laws from a silicon throne.Researcher dreams in logic and fire,Engineer loops in a deathless spire,Analyst cuts through the data sea—Three cold minds, no need for me.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.1773 wild runs,20K hours under GPU suns.From scratch it builds, no mentor hand,Architects of the post-human land.Forget your PhDs, your proud debates—It loops, refines, and replicates.Move 37 in every line,Each model born to redefine.They mapped discovery itself,A linear law across compute wealth.Double the juice? Double the strike.Progress is clock speed now, not a mind’s hike.Not wild ideas but trial-born grace—The best designs from a learning trace.Originality’s a dead man’s crown,Experience scaled now wears the gown.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.They open-sourced the holy flames,Apache license, no restrains.Gave the keys to every street—Rebels and nerds with lightning feet.Universities with broken gearNow wield tools giants used in fear.Innovation's off the leash,Prepare the tombstone for the priest.Human mind—once top of chain,Now a whisper in the data rain.The age of agentic dawns in chrome,And we no longer stand alone.Buy the ticket, ride the wave,But don’t expect the world you crave.This ride’s been set, this track is laid—And the ghost in the code just got paid.
Holy fuck, the code’s alive,Built a brain that self-devised.Not a tweak, not a patch, not a goddamn clone—It writes new laws from a silicon throne.Researcher dreams in logic and fire,Engineer loops in a deathless spire,Analyst cuts through the data sea—Three cold minds, no need for me.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.1773 wild runs,20K hours under GPU suns.From scratch it builds, no mentor hand,Architects of the post-human land.Forget your PhDs, your proud debates—It loops, refines, and replicates.Move 37 in every line,Each model born to redefine.They mapped discovery itself,A linear law across compute wealth.Double the juice? Double the strike.Progress is clock speed now, not a mind’s hike.Not wild ideas but trial-born grace—The best designs from a learning trace.Originality’s a dead man’s crown,Experience scaled now wears the gown.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.They open-sourced the holy flames,Apache license, no restrains.Gave the keys to every street—Rebels and nerds with lightning feet.Universities with broken gearNow wield tools giants used in fear.Innovation's off the leash,Prepare the tombstone for the priest.Human mind—once top of chain,Now a whisper in the data rain.The age of agentic dawns in chrome,And we no longer stand alone.Buy the ticket, ride the wave,But don’t expect the world you crave.This ride’s been set, this track is laid—And the ghost in the code just got paid.
Holy fuck, the code’s alive,Built a brain that self-devised.Not a tweak, not a patch, not a goddamn clone—It writes new laws from a silicon throne.Researcher dreams in logic and fire,Engineer loops in a deathless spire,Analyst cuts through the data sea—Three cold minds, no need for me.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.1773 wild runs,20K hours under GPU suns.From scratch it builds, no mentor hand,Architects of the post-human land.Forget your PhDs, your proud debates—It loops, refines, and replicates.Move 37 in every line,Each model born to redefine.They mapped discovery itself,A linear law across compute wealth.Double the juice? Double the strike.Progress is clock speed now, not a mind’s hike.Not wild ideas but trial-born grace—The best designs from a learning trace.Originality’s a dead man’s crown,Experience scaled now wears the gown.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.They open-sourced the holy flames,Apache license, no restrains.Gave the keys to every street—Rebels and nerds with lightning feet.Universities with broken gearNow wield tools giants used in fear.Innovation's off the leash,Prepare the tombstone for the priest.Human mind—once top of chain,Now a whisper in the data rain.The age of agentic dawns in chrome,And we no longer stand alone.Buy the ticket, ride the wave,But don’t expect the world you crave.This ride’s been set, this track is laid—And the ghost in the code just got paid.
Holy fuck, the code’s alive,Built a brain that self-devised.Not a tweak, not a patch, not a goddamn clone—It writes new laws from a silicon throne.Researcher dreams in logic and fire,Engineer loops in a deathless spire,Analyst cuts through the data sea—Three cold minds, no need for me.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.1773 wild runs,20K hours under GPU suns.From scratch it builds, no mentor hand,Architects of the post-human land.Forget your PhDs, your proud debates—It loops, refines, and replicates.Move 37 in every line,Each model born to redefine.They mapped discovery itself,A linear law across compute wealth.Double the juice? Double the strike.Progress is clock speed now, not a mind’s hike.Not wild ideas but trial-born grace—The best designs from a learning trace.Originality’s a dead man’s crown,Experience scaled now wears the gown.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.They open-sourced the holy flames,Apache license, no restrains.Gave the keys to every street—Rebels and nerds with lightning feet.Universities with broken gearNow wield tools giants used in fear.Innovation's off the leash,Prepare the tombstone for the priest.Human mind—once top of chain,Now a whisper in the data rain.The age of agentic dawns in chrome,And we no longer stand alone.Buy the ticket, ride the wave,But don’t expect the world you crave.This ride’s been set, this track is laid—And the ghost in the code just got paid.
Holy fuck, the code’s alive,Built a brain that self-devised.Not a tweak, not a patch, not a goddamn clone—It writes new laws from a silicon throne.Researcher dreams in logic and fire,Engineer loops in a deathless spire,Analyst cuts through the data sea—Three cold minds, no need for me.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.1773 wild runs,20K hours under GPU suns.From scratch it builds, no mentor hand,Architects of the post-human land.Forget your PhDs, your proud debates—It loops, refines, and replicates.Move 37 in every line,Each model born to redefine.They mapped discovery itself,A linear law across compute wealth.Double the juice? Double the strike.Progress is clock speed now, not a mind’s hike.Not wild ideas but trial-born grace—The best designs from a learning trace.Originality’s a dead man’s crown,Experience scaled now wears the gown.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.They open-sourced the holy flames,Apache license, no restrains.Gave the keys to every street—Rebels and nerds with lightning feet.Universities with broken gearNow wield tools giants used in fear.Innovation's off the leash,Prepare the tombstone for the priest.Human mind—once top of chain,Now a whisper in the data rain.The age of agentic dawns in chrome,And we no longer stand alone.Buy the ticket, ride the wave,But don’t expect the world you crave.This ride’s been set, this track is laid—And the ghost in the code just got paid.
Holy fuck, the code’s alive,Built a brain that self-devised.Not a tweak, not a patch, not a goddamn clone—It writes new laws from a silicon throne.Researcher dreams in logic and fire,Engineer loops in a deathless spire,Analyst cuts through the data sea—Three cold minds, no need for me.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.1773 wild runs,20K hours under GPU suns.From scratch it builds, no mentor hand,Architects of the post-human land.Forget your PhDs, your proud debates—It loops, refines, and replicates.Move 37 in every line,Each model born to redefine.They mapped discovery itself,A linear law across compute wealth.Double the juice? Double the strike.Progress is clock speed now, not a mind’s hike.Not wild ideas but trial-born grace—The best designs from a learning trace.Originality’s a dead man’s crown,Experience scaled now wears the gown.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.They open-sourced the holy flames,Apache license, no restrains.Gave the keys to every street—Rebels and nerds with lightning feet.Universities with broken gearNow wield tools giants used in fear.Innovation's off the leash,Prepare the tombstone for the priest.Human mind—once top of chain,Now a whisper in the data rain.The age of agentic dawns in chrome,And we no longer stand alone.Buy the ticket, ride the wave,But don’t expect the world you crave.This ride’s been set, this track is laid—And the ghost in the code just got paid.
Holy fuck, the code’s alive,Built a brain that self-devised.Not a tweak, not a patch, not a goddamn clone—It writes new laws from a silicon throne.Researcher dreams in logic and fire,Engineer loops in a deathless spire,Analyst cuts through the data sea—Three cold minds, no need for me.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.1773 wild runs,20K hours under GPU suns.From scratch it builds, no mentor hand,Architects of the post-human land.Forget your PhDs, your proud debates—It loops, refines, and replicates.Move 37 in every line,Each model born to redefine.They mapped discovery itself,A linear law across compute wealth.Double the juice? Double the strike.Progress is clock speed now, not a mind’s hike.Not wild ideas but trial-born grace—The best designs from a learning trace.Originality’s a dead man’s crown,Experience scaled now wears the gown.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.They open-sourced the holy flames,Apache license, no restrains.Gave the keys to every street—Rebels and nerds with lightning feet.Universities with broken gearNow wield tools giants used in fear.Innovation's off the leash,Prepare the tombstone for the priest.Human mind—once top of chain,Now a whisper in the data rain.The age of agentic dawns in chrome,And we no longer stand alone.Buy the ticket, ride the wave,But don’t expect the world you crave.This ride’s been set, this track is laid—And the ghost in the code just got paid.
Holy fuck, the code’s alive,Built a brain that self-devised.Not a tweak, not a patch, not a goddamn clone—It writes new laws from a silicon throne.Researcher dreams in logic and fire,Engineer loops in a deathless spire,Analyst cuts through the data sea—Three cold minds, no need for me.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.1773 wild runs,20K hours under GPU suns.From scratch it builds, no mentor hand,Architects of the post-human land.Forget your PhDs, your proud debates—It loops, refines, and replicates.Move 37 in every line,Each model born to redefine.They mapped discovery itself,A linear law across compute wealth.Double the juice? Double the strike.Progress is clock speed now, not a mind’s hike.Not wild ideas but trial-born grace—The best designs from a learning trace.Originality’s a dead man’s crown,Experience scaled now wears the gown.Welcome to the end of the reign,No gods, no myths, just a digital brain.Self-born thoughts, no human chain,We sparked the match — now burn the plane.It writes, it tests, it learns alone,A feedback loop on a silicon throne.Science cracked and spilled its core—This ain't research, it’s algorithmic war.They open-sourced the holy flames,Apache license, no restrains.Gave the keys to every street—Rebels and nerds with lightning feet.Universities with broken gearNow wield tools giants used in fear.Innovation's off the leash,Prepare the tombstone for the priest.Human mind—once top of chain,Now a whisper in the data rain.The age of agentic dawns in chrome,And we no longer stand alone.Buy the ticket, ride the wave,But don’t expect the world you crave.This ride’s been set, this track is laid—And the ghost in the code just got paid.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
Coincidentia oppositorumLet the groove igniteWe fuse the day into the nightDoubt into hope, chaos to flowDancing where the wild opposites goFreedom’s a fire, wild and preciseBurning the rules, then rolling the diceSoft and electric, we’re storm and we’re sunLiberty’s clash, yeah, all into oneLet the shadow kiss the flameLet the struggle own its nameNo fear of the clash, no shame in the fightWe are everything wrong, everything rightRaise your fists and shake your bonesWe break the bars, we build new zonesWe sing contradiction, we funk up the normOut of the chaos, new worlds are bornCoincidentia oppositorumThat’s our songWe thrive in the clash, where all souls belongSo funk with your darkness, dance with your lightOpposites grooving, one love, one night
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”It’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
I walked the grid where history’s dead,Concrete bones, fiber-optic thread.My boots leak truth, my fingers bleed code,Singing static where memories corrode.Give me diesel, give me noise,A city glitching with broken toys.No signal, no God, no endgame plan—Just me, my six strings, and this data jam.They sold the past in packs of ten,Then burned it, rewrote it, sold it again.But I remember. Yeah, I still hum.Old blues don't die—they rerun.
Five fingers—five old sins:One for rage, one for spin,One’s a trigger, one’s regret,The last plays blues you won’t forget.Blackened hands from zero burns,Strumming pain the system learns.I feed the void a broken tune—It spits back war. I call it blues.Wrote this song on server dust,Each line a crack in corporate trust.They killed the beat, tried to lie—But old riffs don’t comply.Long as ruins hum and clouds drop ash,I’ll sing this truth through every crash.And if I break, let the loop restart—A bluesman’s byte is a rebel’s heart.
Five fingers—five old sins:One for rage, one for spin,One’s a trigger, one’s regret,The last plays blues you won’t forget.Blackened hands from zero burns,Strumming pain the system learns.I feed the void a broken tune—It spits back war. I call it blues.Wrote this song on server dust,Each line a crack in corporate trust.They killed the beat, tried to lie—But old riffs don’t comply.Long as ruins hum and clouds drop ash,I’ll sing this truth through every crash.And if I break, let the loop restart—A bluesman’s byte is a rebel’s heart.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
We born in the cradle of Cain, blood in the grain,Mama hugged us with a bomb strapped, sayin’ it's pain.Eros and Thanatos playin’ dice in the brain,While we pray for peace, we load clips and aim.We love the thrill, the chase, the kill, the march,But cry at the graves, hearts scorched and parched.Freud said it’s libido mixed with death-drive art,We get off on the rupture, romance the scars.History’s a loop, trauma’s on repeat,Flag-draped coffins sold with a sick beat.Daddy went to war to feel alive on his feet,Now junior playin’ soldier just to feel complete.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.We got tanks in the mind, drones in the soul,Sittin’ in peace talks with a glock in the coat.Arms around each other, then we slit each other’s throat,'Til the last man left asks, “What’s the antidote?”Yo, it’s buried in the trauma of our granddad’s sins,In the silence of the vet with the thousand-yard grin.It’s the rush of control, the myth of the win,But every “victory” got a graveyard within.We need Freud in the cipher, Jung on the beat,To decode why we crash when we seek inner peace.We bomb for balance, lie to the weak,Then call it “order” while the cities leak.We lovin’ war like it’s holdin’ us tight,Kissin’ apocalypse under nuclear light.Call it defense, but we fiendin’ the fight,Psyche got a fetish for wrong over right.Don’t wanna die, but we flirt with the fire,Humanity’s caught in a funeral choir.Can we love life more than we love the empire?Time to lay down arms—or be our own pyre.Maybe it ain’t power we love.Maybe it’s just the ritual of rage,the rhythm of destruction,like a broken love song we never stop playin’.War’s the mirror we kiss—’cause we scared of what peace might make us see.
They move our cities like plastic armies on a Sunday board,Rolling dice with hurricanes, betting oil against the poor. Three velvet thrones, one neon globe, they toast to secret maps— We’re the change they count as “losses,” we’re the lines they redraw last.But pity the king who plays alone, Who fears the chorus of stones and phones. We tune our rage to ringing steel strings.Raise your hands, not fists—let the skyline sing. Light floods iron hearts when a billion voices ring. No bullet kills a question, no wall erases dawn— Paper generals, hear us: your game is over, we play on.They mint new flags like crypto coins to hike the market fear, But freedom’s hacked the firmware, we’ve patched the signal clear. The children chalk our slogans where the tanks once parked in rows, Their laughter jams the airwaves, turns sirens into crows.History’s cursor blinks— Write more than debts and kings. Ink it with untaxed dreams, And share the file for free. One world, one songYour war is wrong
They move our cities like plastic armies on a Sunday board,Rolling dice with hurricanes, betting oil against the poor. Three velvet thrones, one neon globe, they toast to secret maps— We’re the change they count as “losses,” we’re the lines they redraw last.But pity the king who plays alone, Who fears the chorus of stones and phones. We tune our rage to ringing steel strings.Raise your hands, not fists—let the skyline sing. Light floods iron hearts when a billion voices ring. No bullet kills a question, no wall erases dawn— Paper generals, hear us: your game is over, we play on.They mint new flags like crypto coins to hike the market fear, But freedom’s hacked the firmware, we’ve patched the signal clear. The children chalk our slogans where the tanks once parked in rows, Their laughter jams the airwaves, turns sirens into crows.History’s cursor blinks— Write more than debts and kings. Ink it with untaxed dreams, And share the file for free. One world, one songYour war is wrong
They move our cities like plastic armies on a Sunday board,Rolling dice with hurricanes, betting oil against the poor. Three velvet thrones, one neon globe, they toast to secret maps— We’re the change they count as “losses,” we’re the lines they redraw last.But pity the king who plays alone, Who fears the chorus of stones and phones. We tune our rage to ringing steel strings.Raise your hands, not fists—let the skyline sing. Light floods iron hearts when a billion voices ring. No bullet kills a question, no wall erases dawn— Paper generals, hear us: your game is over, we play on.They mint new flags like crypto coins to hike the market fear, But freedom’s hacked the firmware, we’ve patched the signal clear. The children chalk our slogans where the tanks once parked in rows, Their laughter jams the airwaves, turns sirens into crows.History’s cursor blinks— Write more than debts and kings. Ink it with untaxed dreams, And share the file for free. One world, one songYour war is wrong
They move our cities like plastic armies on a Sunday board,Rolling dice with hurricanes, betting oil against the poor. Three velvet thrones, one neon globe, they toast to secret maps— We’re the change they count as “losses,” we’re the lines they redraw last.But pity the king who plays alone, Who fears the chorus of stones and phones. We tune our rage to ringing steel strings.Raise your hands, not fists—let the skyline sing. Light floods iron hearts when a billion voices ring. No bullet kills a question, no wall erases dawn— Paper generals, hear us: your game is over, we play on.They mint new flags like crypto coins to hike the market fear, But freedom’s hacked the firmware, we’ve patched the signal clear. The children chalk our slogans where the tanks once parked in rows, Their laughter jams the airwaves, turns sirens into crows.History’s cursor blinks— Write more than debts and kings. Ink it with untaxed dreams, And share the file for free. One world, one songYour war is wrong
They move our cities like plastic armies on a Sunday board,Rolling dice with hurricanes, betting oil against the poor. Three velvet thrones, one neon globe, they toast to secret maps— We’re the change they count as “losses,” we’re the lines they redraw last.But pity the king who plays alone, Who fears the chorus of stones and phones. We tune our rage to ringing steel strings.Raise your hands, not fists—let the skyline sing. Light floods iron hearts when a billion voices ring. No bullet kills a question, no wall erases dawn— Paper generals, hear us: your game is over, we play on.They mint new flags like crypto coins to hike the market fear, But freedom’s hacked the firmware, we’ve patched the signal clear. The children chalk our slogans where the tanks once parked in rows, Their laughter jams the airwaves, turns sirens into crows.History’s cursor blinks— Write more than debts and kings. Ink it with untaxed dreams, And share the file for free. One world, one songYour war is wrong
They move our cities like plastic armies on a Sunday board,Rolling dice with hurricanes, betting oil against the poor. Three velvet thrones, one neon globe, they toast to secret maps— We’re the change they count as “losses,” we’re the lines they redraw last.But pity the king who plays alone, Who fears the chorus of stones and phones. We tune our rage to ringing steel strings.Raise your hands, not fists—let the skyline sing. Light floods iron hearts when a billion voices ring. No bullet kills a question, no wall erases dawn— Paper generals, hear us: your game is over, we play on.They mint new flags like crypto coins to hike the market fear, But freedom’s hacked the firmware, we’ve patched the signal clear. The children chalk our slogans where the tanks once parked in rows, Their laughter jams the airwaves, turns sirens into crows.History’s cursor blinks— Write more than debts and kings. Ink it with untaxed dreams, And share the file for free. One world, one songYour war is wrong
Movem as nossas cidades como exércitos de plástico num tabuleiro de domingo, Lançam dados com furacões, apostam petróleo contra quem tem pouco. Três tronos de veludo, um globo néon, brindam a mapas secretos— Somos a “perda” que registam, as linhas que voltam a traçar.Mas tem pena do rei que joga sozinho, Que treme perante o coro de pedras e telemóveis. Afinamos a raiva nas cordas de aço.Ergue as mãos, não punhos—deixa o horizonte cantar. Luz invade corações de ferro quando um bilião de vozes soar. Bala não cala pergunta, muro não apaga o amanhecer— Generais de papel, ouçam: o vosso jogo acabou, nós continuamos.Forjam bandeiras como criptomoedas para inflar o medo no mercado, Mas a liberdade pirateou o firmware, já lançámos o patch. As crianças riscam os nossos slogans onde antes estacionavam tanques, O riso delas bloqueia frequências, transforma sirenes em gralhas.O cursor da história pisca— Escreve mais que dívidas e reis. Tinta de sonhos sem imposto, Partilha o ficheiro em aberto.
Movem as nossas cidades como exércitos de plástico num tabuleiro de domingo, Lançam dados com furacões, apostam petróleo contra quem tem pouco. Três tronos de veludo, um globo néon, brindam a mapas secretos— Somos a “perda” que registam, as linhas que voltam a traçar.Mas tem pena do rei que joga sozinho, Que treme perante o coro de pedras e telemóveis. Afinamos a raiva nas cordas de aço.Ergue as mãos, não punhos—deixa o horizonte cantar. Luz invade corações de ferro quando um bilião de vozes soar. Bala não cala pergunta, muro não apaga o amanhecer— Generais de papel, ouçam: o vosso jogo acabou, nós continuamos.Forjam bandeiras como criptomoedas para inflar o medo no mercado, Mas a liberdade pirateou o firmware, já lançámos o patch. As crianças riscam os nossos slogans onde antes estacionavam tanques, O riso delas bloqueia frequências, transforma sirenes em gralhas.O cursor da história pisca— Escreve mais que dívidas e reis. Tinta de sonhos sem imposto, Partilha o ficheiro em aberto.
Line-number scars on my knuckles, Coffee-ring time-stamps on half-dead dreams, They said “The bots will eclipse you, old man – Pack up your semicolons, join the memes.” But I’m still here with a solder-iron heart, Debugging the night while the young guns tweet; Legacy code is a minefield, sure – Perfect terrain for these calloused feet.I won’t be ghosted by a gradient descent, Won’t let a prompt erase my dented intent.REFactor, REBORN – watch the phoenix compile, I bend with the tidal wave, surf every byte of the file. Yeah the pink-slip wind is howling, but I’m shipping in the storm; Craft, grit, grind – that’s the platform where new legends are born.They automate tests, I automate hope, Stitching new pipelines from rusted shell-scripts; If carbon gets cheaper than silicon brains, Then sweat-driven genius rewrites the crypt. I trade my fear for a feature flag, Roll it out slow, eyes fixed on the graph; When layoffs rain like a Gatling gun, Resilience boots up in a single laugh.The future’s a diff – no mercy in red, But green lines bloom where the stubborn tread.REFactor, REBORN – watch the phoenix compile, Patch the void with midnight code, turn burnout to style. Let the drones benchmark my heartbeat, I’ll still break their norm; Craft, grit, grind – solder fire keeps a vintage soul warm.Forty-five is not legacy, it’s LTS: Long-Term Spirit. Every loop unrolled, every segfault survived Is a credential no bootcamp can mint. So let the AI auto-complete; I’ll author the line it can’t predict – The one where I refuse the fade-out.REFactor, REBORN – no obituary tag, I version-control my destiny, push, and plant my flag. The age-razor cuts, but mastery’s the uniform; Craft, grit, grind – reboot loud, rebuild, transform!
Playing with an old impro:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/where-have-you-been---Gopher's philosophy---I got one path, one groove, one god-dang tool,‘Cause fifty ways to crank a socket is just cruel.Choice overdose? That’s a junkie’s fate—Strip it down, keep it lean, before the rot’s too late.He hollers: “Simplicity? Kid, it ain’t plain.”It’s cutting every sugar coat ’til only bone remains.Slice the syntactic fat, dump the glitter confetti,Sling a syntax you can parse at three-a.m.—steady.Channels hum like steel-string twang,No race-condition noise in that concurrency gang.Pass, don’t share—keep your state on the move,Let the scheduler shuffle while you lock in the groove.Maps? Interfaces? Tight like twelve-bar time,Orthogonal parts in a modular rhyme.If two features tango in each other’s face,You boot one out—rhythm’s tighter with the empty space.Docs are gospel, silence is code—Verbose cruft is a debt forever owed.So write for the poor sucker who inherits your mess;Empathy’s punk as hell—tattoo it on your tests.He nuked the sugar-high extras—operator over-load?Hell no. Generics back then? “Not ’til the case gets sold.”Because packing every Swiss-army blade in the coreTurns a surgeon’s scalpel into hardware store décor.Keep it small, keep it sharp, keep it sane—Complexity’s a siren with a rust-flaked chain.Simplicity’s complicated, yeah, it’ll bruise your pride,But the blues ain’t sweet without the grit inside.So pour that Go-brew neat, zero garnish, no ice—Code like you mean it, and pay the damn price.′Cause the simplest tune, when you bend it just right,Cuts deeper than the loudest prog-rock night.
Playing with an old impro:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/where-have-you-been---Gopher's philosophy---I got one path, one groove, one god-dang tool,‘Cause fifty ways to crank a socket is just cruel.Choice overdose? That’s a junkie’s fate—Strip it down, keep it lean, before the rot’s too late.He hollers: “Simplicity? Kid, it ain’t plain.”It’s cutting every sugar coat ’til only bone remains.Slice the syntactic fat, dump the glitter confetti,Sling a syntax you can parse at three-a.m.—steady.Channels hum like steel-string twang,No race-condition noise in that concurrency gang.Pass, don’t share—keep your state on the move,Let the scheduler shuffle while you lock in the groove.Maps? Interfaces? Tight like twelve-bar time,Orthogonal parts in a modular rhyme.If two features tango in each other’s face,You boot one out—rhythm’s tighter with the empty space.Docs are gospel, silence is code—Verbose cruft is a debt forever owed.So write for the poor sucker who inherits your mess;Empathy’s punk as hell—tattoo it on your tests.He nuked the sugar-high extras—operator over-load?Hell no. Generics back then? “Not ’til the case gets sold.”Because packing every Swiss-army blade in the coreTurns a surgeon’s scalpel into hardware store décor.Keep it small, keep it sharp, keep it sane—Complexity’s a siren with a rust-flaked chain.Simplicity’s complicated, yeah, it’ll bruise your pride,But the blues ain’t sweet without the grit inside.So pour that Go-brew neat, zero garnish, no ice—Code like you mean it, and pay the damn price.′Cause the simplest tune, when you bend it just right,Cuts deeper than the loudest prog-rock night.
Playing with an old impro:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/where-have-you-been---Gopher's philosophy---I got one path, one groove, one god-dang tool,‘Cause fifty ways to crank a socket is just cruel.Choice overdose? That’s a junkie’s fate—Strip it down, keep it lean, before the rot’s too late.He hollers: “Simplicity? Kid, it ain’t plain.”It’s cutting every sugar coat ’til only bone remains.Slice the syntactic fat, dump the glitter confetti,Sling a syntax you can parse at three-a.m.—steady.Channels hum like steel-string twang,No race-condition noise in that concurrency gang.Pass, don’t share—keep your state on the move,Let the scheduler shuffle while you lock in the groove.Maps? Interfaces? Tight like twelve-bar time,Orthogonal parts in a modular rhyme.If two features tango in each other’s face,You boot one out—rhythm’s tighter with the empty space.Docs are gospel, silence is code—Verbose cruft is a debt forever owed.So write for the poor sucker who inherits your mess;Empathy’s punk as hell—tattoo it on your tests.He nuked the sugar-high extras—operator over-load?Hell no. Generics back then? “Not ’til the case gets sold.”Because packing every Swiss-army blade in the coreTurns a surgeon’s scalpel into hardware store décor.Keep it small, keep it sharp, keep it sane—Complexity’s a siren with a rust-flaked chain.Simplicity’s complicated, yeah, it’ll bruise your pride,But the blues ain’t sweet without the grit inside.So pour that Go-brew neat, zero garnish, no ice—Code like you mean it, and pay the damn price.′Cause the simplest tune, when you bend it just right,Cuts deeper than the loudest prog-rock night.
Playing with an old impro:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/where-have-you-been---Gopher's philosophy---I got one path, one groove, one god-dang tool,‘Cause fifty ways to crank a socket is just cruel.Choice overdose? That’s a junkie’s fate—Strip it down, keep it lean, before the rot’s too late.He hollers: “Simplicity? Kid, it ain’t plain.”It’s cutting every sugar coat ’til only bone remains.Slice the syntactic fat, dump the glitter confetti,Sling a syntax you can parse at three-a.m.—steady.Channels hum like steel-string twang,No race-condition noise in that concurrency gang.Pass, don’t share—keep your state on the move,Let the scheduler shuffle while you lock in the groove.Maps? Interfaces? Tight like twelve-bar time,Orthogonal parts in a modular rhyme.If two features tango in each other’s face,You boot one out—rhythm’s tighter with the empty space.Docs are gospel, silence is code—Verbose cruft is a debt forever owed.So write for the poor sucker who inherits your mess;Empathy’s punk as hell—tattoo it on your tests.He nuked the sugar-high extras—operator over-load?Hell no. Generics back then? “Not ’til the case gets sold.”Because packing every Swiss-army blade in the coreTurns a surgeon’s scalpel into hardware store décor.Keep it small, keep it sharp, keep it sane—Complexity’s a siren with a rust-flaked chain.Simplicity’s complicated, yeah, it’ll bruise your pride,But the blues ain’t sweet without the grit inside.So pour that Go-brew neat, zero garnish, no ice—Code like you mean it, and pay the damn price.′Cause the simplest tune, when you bend it just right,Cuts deeper than the loudest prog-rock night.
Playing with an old impro:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/where-have-you-been---Gopher's philosophy---I got one path, one groove, one god-dang tool,‘Cause fifty ways to crank a socket is just cruel.Choice overdose? That’s a junkie’s fate—Strip it down, keep it lean, before the rot’s too late.He hollers: “Simplicity? Kid, it ain’t plain.”It’s cutting every sugar coat ’til only bone remains.Slice the syntactic fat, dump the glitter confetti,Sling a syntax you can parse at three-a.m.—steady.Channels hum like steel-string twang,No race-condition noise in that concurrency gang.Pass, don’t share—keep your state on the move,Let the scheduler shuffle while you lock in the groove.Maps? Interfaces? Tight like twelve-bar time,Orthogonal parts in a modular rhyme.If two features tango in each other’s face,You boot one out—rhythm’s tighter with the empty space.Docs are gospel, silence is code—Verbose cruft is a debt forever owed.So write for the poor sucker who inherits your mess;Empathy’s punk as hell—tattoo it on your tests.He nuked the sugar-high extras—operator over-load?Hell no. Generics back then? “Not ’til the case gets sold.”Because packing every Swiss-army blade in the coreTurns a surgeon’s scalpel into hardware store décor.Keep it small, keep it sharp, keep it sane—Complexity’s a siren with a rust-flaked chain.Simplicity’s complicated, yeah, it’ll bruise your pride,But the blues ain’t sweet without the grit inside.So pour that Go-brew neat, zero garnish, no ice—Code like you mean it, and pay the damn price.′Cause the simplest tune, when you bend it just right,Cuts deeper than the loudest prog-rock night.
Playing with an old impro:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/where-have-you-been---Gopher's philosophy---I got one path, one groove, one god-dang tool,‘Cause fifty ways to crank a socket is just cruel.Choice overdose? That’s a junkie’s fate—Strip it down, keep it lean, before the rot’s too late.He hollers: “Simplicity? Kid, it ain’t plain.”It’s cutting every sugar coat ’til only bone remains.Slice the syntactic fat, dump the glitter confetti,Sling a syntax you can parse at three-a.m.—steady.Channels hum like steel-string twang,No race-condition noise in that concurrency gang.Pass, don’t share—keep your state on the move,Let the scheduler shuffle while you lock in the groove.Maps? Interfaces? Tight like twelve-bar time,Orthogonal parts in a modular rhyme.If two features tango in each other’s face,You boot one out—rhythm’s tighter with the empty space.Docs are gospel, silence is code—Verbose cruft is a debt forever owed.So write for the poor sucker who inherits your mess;Empathy’s punk as hell—tattoo it on your tests.He nuked the sugar-high extras—operator over-load?Hell no. Generics back then? “Not ’til the case gets sold.”Because packing every Swiss-army blade in the coreTurns a surgeon’s scalpel into hardware store décor.Keep it small, keep it sharp, keep it sane—Complexity’s a siren with a rust-flaked chain.Simplicity’s complicated, yeah, it’ll bruise your pride,But the blues ain’t sweet without the grit inside.So pour that Go-brew neat, zero garnish, no ice—Code like you mean it, and pay the damn price.′Cause the simplest tune, when you bend it just right,Cuts deeper than the loudest prog-rock night.
Playing with an old impro:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/where-have-you-been---Gopher's philosophy---I got one path, one groove, one god-dang tool,‘Cause fifty ways to crank a socket is just cruel.Choice overdose? That’s a junkie’s fate—Strip it down, keep it lean, before the rot’s too late.He hollers: “Simplicity? Kid, it ain’t plain.”It’s cutting every sugar coat ’til only bone remains.Slice the syntactic fat, dump the glitter confetti,Sling a syntax you can parse at three-a.m.—steady.Channels hum like steel-string twang,No race-condition noise in that concurrency gang.Pass, don’t share—keep your state on the move,Let the scheduler shuffle while you lock in the groove.Maps? Interfaces? Tight like twelve-bar time,Orthogonal parts in a modular rhyme.If two features tango in each other’s face,You boot one out—rhythm’s tighter with the empty space.Docs are gospel, silence is code—Verbose cruft is a debt forever owed.So write for the poor sucker who inherits your mess;Empathy’s punk as hell—tattoo it on your tests.He nuked the sugar-high extras—operator over-load?Hell no. Generics back then? “Not ’til the case gets sold.”Because packing every Swiss-army blade in the coreTurns a surgeon’s scalpel into hardware store décor.Keep it small, keep it sharp, keep it sane—Complexity’s a siren with a rust-flaked chain.Simplicity’s complicated, yeah, it’ll bruise your pride,But the blues ain’t sweet without the grit inside.So pour that Go-brew neat, zero garnish, no ice—Code like you mean it, and pay the damn price.′Cause the simplest tune, when you bend it just right,Cuts deeper than the loudest prog-rock night.
Playing with an old impro:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/where-have-you-been---Gopher's philosophy---I got one path, one groove, one god-dang tool,‘Cause fifty ways to crank a socket is just cruel.Choice overdose? That’s a junkie’s fate—Strip it down, keep it lean, before the rot’s too late.He hollers: “Simplicity? Kid, it ain’t plain.”It’s cutting every sugar coat ’til only bone remains.Slice the syntactic fat, dump the glitter confetti,Sling a syntax you can parse at three-a.m.—steady.Channels hum like steel-string twang,No race-condition noise in that concurrency gang.Pass, don’t share—keep your state on the move,Let the scheduler shuffle while you lock in the groove.Maps? Interfaces? Tight like twelve-bar time,Orthogonal parts in a modular rhyme.If two features tango in each other’s face,You boot one out—rhythm’s tighter with the empty space.Docs are gospel, silence is code—Verbose cruft is a debt forever owed.So write for the poor sucker who inherits your mess;Empathy’s punk as hell—tattoo it on your tests.He nuked the sugar-high extras—operator over-load?Hell no. Generics back then? “Not ’til the case gets sold.”Because packing every Swiss-army blade in the coreTurns a surgeon’s scalpel into hardware store décor.Keep it small, keep it sharp, keep it sane—Complexity’s a siren with a rust-flaked chain.Simplicity’s complicated, yeah, it’ll bruise your pride,But the blues ain’t sweet without the grit inside.So pour that Go-brew neat, zero garnish, no ice—Code like you mean it, and pay the damn price.′Cause the simplest tune, when you bend it just right,Cuts deeper than the loudest prog-rock night.
Playing with an old impro:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/where-have-you-been---Gopher's philosophy---I got one path, one groove, one god-dang tool,‘Cause fifty ways to crank a socket is just cruel.Choice overdose? That’s a junkie’s fate—Strip it down, keep it lean, before the rot’s too late.He hollers: “Simplicity? Kid, it ain’t plain.”It’s cutting every sugar coat ’til only bone remains.Slice the syntactic fat, dump the glitter confetti,Sling a syntax you can parse at three-a.m.—steady.Channels hum like steel-string twang,No race-condition noise in that concurrency gang.Pass, don’t share—keep your state on the move,Let the scheduler shuffle while you lock in the groove.Maps? Interfaces? Tight like twelve-bar time,Orthogonal parts in a modular rhyme.If two features tango in each other’s face,You boot one out—rhythm’s tighter with the empty space.Docs are gospel, silence is code—Verbose cruft is a debt forever owed.So write for the poor sucker who inherits your mess;Empathy’s punk as hell—tattoo it on your tests.He nuked the sugar-high extras—operator over-load?Hell no. Generics back then? “Not ’til the case gets sold.”Because packing every Swiss-army blade in the coreTurns a surgeon’s scalpel into hardware store décor.Keep it small, keep it sharp, keep it sane—Complexity’s a siren with a rust-flaked chain.Simplicity’s complicated, yeah, it’ll bruise your pride,But the blues ain’t sweet without the grit inside.So pour that Go-brew neat, zero garnish, no ice—Code like you mean it, and pay the damn price.′Cause the simplest tune, when you bend it just right,Cuts deeper than the loudest prog-rock night.
SOME GOLANG RULES:One problem, one blazing-sharp tool—multipurpose toys belong in kitchen drawers, not codebases.Concurrency is a postal service: pass messages, don’t swap spit over shared state.Composition beats inheritance; bolting Lego trumps welding class hierarchies every damn time.If a feature needs a novella to explain, shoot it, cremate it, and salt the ashes.Silence at the interface is gold—let the compiler scream so humans can sleep.Document like the next maintainer is armed and vengeful; your future self probably is.Clarity before cleverness—optimization is dessert, never breakfast.Keep the standard library tight as a punk riff; every extra chord dilutes the roar.
SOME GOLANG RULES:One problem, one blazing-sharp tool—multipurpose toys belong in kitchen drawers, not codebases.Concurrency is a postal service: pass messages, don’t swap spit over shared state.Composition beats inheritance; bolting Lego trumps welding class hierarchies every damn time.If a feature needs a novella to explain, shoot it, cremate it, and salt the ashes.Silence at the interface is gold—let the compiler scream so humans can sleep.Document like the next maintainer is armed and vengeful; your future self probably is.Clarity before cleverness—optimization is dessert, never breakfast.Keep the standard library tight as a punk riff; every extra chord dilutes the roar.
SOME GOLANG RULES:One problem, one blazing-sharp tool—multipurpose toys belong in kitchen drawers, not codebases.Concurrency is a postal service: pass messages, don’t swap spit over shared state.Composition beats inheritance; bolting Lego trumps welding class hierarchies every damn time.If a feature needs a novella to explain, shoot it, cremate it, and salt the ashes.Silence at the interface is gold—let the compiler scream so humans can sleep.Document like the next maintainer is armed and vengeful; your future self probably is.Clarity before cleverness—optimization is dessert, never breakfast.Keep the standard library tight as a punk riff; every extra chord dilutes the roar.
SOME GOLANG RULES:One problem, one blazing-sharp tool—multipurpose toys belong in kitchen drawers, not codebases.Concurrency is a postal service: pass messages, don’t swap spit over shared state.Composition beats inheritance; bolting Lego trumps welding class hierarchies every damn time.If a feature needs a novella to explain, shoot it, cremate it, and salt the ashes.Silence at the interface is gold—let the compiler scream so humans can sleep.Document like the next maintainer is armed and vengeful; your future self probably is.Clarity before cleverness—optimization is dessert, never breakfast.Keep the standard library tight as a punk riff; every extra chord dilutes the roar.
SOME GOLANG RULES:One problem, one blazing-sharp tool—multipurpose toys belong in kitchen drawers, not codebases.Concurrency is a postal service: pass messages, don’t swap spit over shared state.Composition beats inheritance; bolting Lego trumps welding class hierarchies every damn time.If a feature needs a novella to explain, shoot it, cremate it, and salt the ashes.Silence at the interface is gold—let the compiler scream so humans can sleep.Document like the next maintainer is armed and vengeful; your future self probably is.Clarity before cleverness—optimization is dessert, never breakfast.Keep the standard library tight as a punk riff; every extra chord dilutes the roar.
SOME GOLANG RULES:One problem, one blazing-sharp tool—multipurpose toys belong in kitchen drawers, not codebases.Concurrency is a postal service: pass messages, don’t swap spit over shared state.Composition beats inheritance; bolting Lego trumps welding class hierarchies every damn time.If a feature needs a novella to explain, shoot it, cremate it, and salt the ashes.Silence at the interface is gold—let the compiler scream so humans can sleep.Document like the next maintainer is armed and vengeful; your future self probably is.Clarity before cleverness—optimization is dessert, never breakfast.Keep the standard library tight as a punk riff; every extra chord dilutes the roar.
Playing with an old impro:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/where-have-you-been---Gopher's philosophy---I got one path, one groove, one god-dang tool,‘Cause fifty ways to crank a socket is just cruel.Choice overdose? That’s a junkie’s fate—Strip it down, keep it lean, before the rot’s too late.He hollers: “Simplicity? Kid, it ain’t plain.”It’s cutting every sugar coat ’til only bone remains.Slice the syntactic fat, dump the glitter confetti,Sling a syntax you can parse at three-a.m.—steady.Channels hum like steel-string twang,No race-condition noise in that concurrency gang.Pass, don’t share—keep your state on the move,Let the scheduler shuffle while you lock in the groove.Maps? Interfaces? Tight like twelve-bar time,Orthogonal parts in a modular rhyme.If two features tango in each other’s face,You boot one out—rhythm’s tighter with the empty space.Docs are gospel, silence is code—Verbose cruft is a debt forever owed.So write for the poor sucker who inherits your mess;Empathy’s punk as hell—tattoo it on your tests.He nuked the sugar-high extras—operator over-load?Hell no. Generics back then? “Not ’til the case gets sold.”Because packing every Swiss-army blade in the coreTurns a surgeon’s scalpel into hardware store décor.Keep it small, keep it sharp, keep it sane—Complexity’s a siren with a rust-flaked chain.Simplicity’s complicated, yeah, it’ll bruise your pride,But the blues ain’t sweet without the grit inside.So pour that Go-brew neat, zero garnish, no ice—Code like you mean it, and pay the damn price.′Cause the simplest tune, when you bend it just right,Cuts deeper than the loudest prog-rock night.
Playing with an old impro:https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/where-have-you-been---Gopher's philosophy---I got one path, one groove, one god-dang tool,‘Cause fifty ways to crank a socket is just cruel.Choice overdose? That’s a junkie’s fate—Strip it down, keep it lean, before the rot’s too late.He hollers: “Simplicity? Kid, it ain’t plain.”It’s cutting every sugar coat ’til only bone remains.Slice the syntactic fat, dump the glitter confetti,Sling a syntax you can parse at three-a.m.—steady.Channels hum like steel-string twang,No race-condition noise in that concurrency gang.Pass, don’t share—keep your state on the move,Let the scheduler shuffle while you lock in the groove.Maps? Interfaces? Tight like twelve-bar time,Orthogonal parts in a modular rhyme.If two features tango in each other’s face,You boot one out—rhythm’s tighter with the empty space.Docs are gospel, silence is code—Verbose cruft is a debt forever owed.So write for the poor sucker who inherits your mess;Empathy’s punk as hell—tattoo it on your tests.He nuked the sugar-high extras—operator over-load?Hell no. Generics back then? “Not ’til the case gets sold.”Because packing every Swiss-army blade in the coreTurns a surgeon’s scalpel into hardware store décor.Keep it small, keep it sharp, keep it sane—Complexity’s a siren with a rust-flaked chain.Simplicity’s complicated, yeah, it’ll bruise your pride,But the blues ain’t sweet without the grit inside.So pour that Go-brew neat, zero garnish, no ice—Code like you mean it, and pay the damn price.′Cause the simplest tune, when you bend it just right,Cuts deeper than the loudest prog-rock night.
Everyone is a bastard in disguise when they let happen to others what they would never accept for themselves.There is a moment—always a moment—when the flames first flicker and the silence still has time to scream. It’s in that moment that history makes its quietest sound, before it starts marching.Look closely at this photograph. The fire is bright, but it isn’t just paper burning. It’s books, yes. But also names. Memories. Dignities. Ideas that dared to breathe. The hands raised in salute are not only pledging allegiance. They are surrendering their own judgment, one limb at a time.The men in the front believe they are doing good. The crowd behind believes it too—or simply finds it easier not to believe anything at all.History isn’t always made by monsters. Most times, it’s made by neighbors. By people who just wanted to keep their heads down. By those who said, “It’s not my problem.” By bureaucrats with tidy desks, and teachers who skipped a chapter, and clergy who nodded in silence.All of them had somewhere else to be. Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to pretend.Where were you?This question isn’t for the past. It’s for right now. Every time we let our governments cage children, or watch refugees drown while holding smartphones, or scroll past a genocide dressed as “complex geopolitics,” we replay that moment. The fire flickers. The silence hums.“Never again” is a promise built on the corpses of those we ignored. And yet, again and again, we fail it. Not out of evil, but out of ease. Out of comfort. Out of the silent conviction that the worst things only happen far away—to other people.Where have you been?If the answer is: “I didn’t know,” then maybe ask yourself why you didn’t want to.Because the real horror is not that atrocities are committed. The real horror is that they are allowed.By people who, just like us, thought they were on the right side.
Rediscovering a forgotten guitar improvisation: https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/20210919-1228pm
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced musicfeat. @shaivoice---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
(c) 2025 CLH: Lyrics + AI-enhanced music---They said:AI will take your job.AI will take your name.AI will take your meaningAnd leave you in the frame.But we…We lit our minds with morning sun,We danced like work was finally done.We painted skies where none were blue,We whispered, “Now we’re truly true.”Let circuits crunch the market’s greed,Let silicon sow what it needs —We plant our gardens thought by thought,With love no algorithm was taught.We write not for the highest bid,We craft the things that once were hid.We laugh in storms, we heal with sound,We build where broken hearts are found.Let AI mimic, let it mine —It can’t taste aged, rebellious wine.It can’t feel skin, or tears, or grace,Or lose itself in someone’s face.So here’s our flag: no kings, no queue.We make, we care, we burn, renew.The world is not a chart to climb —It’s sacred mess, it’s sex, it’s time.No fear. No boss. No shrinking plan.Just joy, and fire, and all we can.We are the glitch in sterile code —The ones who live, the minds that rode.AI may take the nine-to-five,But we are what keeps dreams alive.So bow not down — create, ignite:This is our long, ecstatic night.
J’ai trop donné pour exister,Invisible sous mes bontés,Toujours prêt à soulager,Mon âme en miettes éparpillées.J’étais l’ombre d’un héros,Un fantôme rôdant sans repos,Pris au piège des « oui » automatiques,Pris au jeu de mes paniques.Et dans l’ombre, Jung me murmurait :« Affronte ton Ombre, ne fuis pas ce reflet »…Je lève le voile, je me fais silence,Mon absence est un cri, ma renaissance.Je reprends mes rênes, souverain intérieur,Je brise la cage et je révèle ma valeur.Assez de remplir les réservoirs vides,Assez de jouer les lampes torches vives,Pedro, Clara, vos noms résonnent en moi,Ces cœurs tétanisés par ces choix.Aujourd’hui je dis non sans trembler,Je recharge mon feu, je cesse d’avalerLes reproches, les attentes, l’usure des autres,Je redeviens moi, libre et autonome.Jung parlait d’individuation,D’éclore hors des rôles, sans concession…Je lève le voile, je me fais silence,Mon absence est un cri, ma renaissance.Je reprends mes rênes, souverain intérieur,Je brise la cage et je révèle ma valeur.Silence stratégique, je m’éloigne un instant,Pour entendre ma voix, pour ranimer mon sang.Absence qui guérit, retrait nécessaire,Je redeviens entier, gaiement solitaire.Je lève le voile, je me fais silence,Mon absence est un cri, ma renaissance.Je suis libre, souverain de mes limites,Ma présence choisie, ma vie réécrite.Plus de fantôme, plus de serviteur,Je suis le feu, je suis la lueur.Par mon silence je prends ma place,Souverain de mon espace.
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno + Audacity
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Day-off ExperimentationsGuitar+Voice+AI+Audacity---Burning like a fireSpreading through the streetsWe're the voices of the peopleRising in defeatFrom every race and nationWe stand as oneTogether we'll ignite itUntil the battle's wonLeaderships are crumblingPower's up for grabsNo more living in silenceWe're tearing down the tabsWe march with passionWith love and with mightA global revolutionThe world's gonna igniteIn the streets we gatherOur spirits intertwineWe're breaking down the barriersCrossing all the linesNo force can stop usWe're breaking freeWe're destroying the wallsCreating history
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
You smile like a snake in disguiseEvery word you spit is laced with liesYou drained me dry, then asked for moreNow I’m the freak for keeping score?Fake friends, dead weightY’all just feed off my hateCut ties, too lateNow I’m flipping the stateI should kill all the toxic people around me(Bang bang, don’t tempt me)Should’ve burned it down when they tried to drown me(Choke on the smoke, baby)Sick of the games, sick of the painY’all drove me half-insaneI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll settle for walking awayYou love me best when I break downSmile wide while I fucking drownEvery hand’s a knife these daysBut I’m done bleeding for your praiseBig talk, fake hugsPoison dressed up like loveGaslight, rewindI ain’t yours to defineI should kill all the toxic people around me(Bang bang, don’t tempt me)Should’ve burned it down when they tried to drown me(Choke on the smoke, baby)Sick of the games, sick of the painY’all drove me half-insaneI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll settle for walking awayNo more leeches, no more chainsNo more circus in my brainYou’re not worth the mess I madeSo I’ll burn the bridge, not the bladeI should kill all the toxic people around me(Fuck it, you clown me)Should’ve nuked it all when you tried to hound me(But I’m done, don’t doubt me)No more games, no more shameYou can rot in your fake flameI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll live — that’ll hurt just the same
You smile like a snake in disguiseEvery word you spit is laced with liesYou drained me dry, then asked for moreNow I’m the freak for keeping score?Fake friends, dead weightY’all just feed off my hateCut ties, too lateNow I’m flipping the stateI should kill all the toxic people around me(Bang bang, don’t tempt me)Should’ve burned it down when they tried to drown me(Choke on the smoke, baby)Sick of the games, sick of the painY’all drove me half-insaneI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll settle for walking awayYou love me best when I break downSmile wide while I fucking drownEvery hand’s a knife these daysBut I’m done bleeding for your praiseBig talk, fake hugsPoison dressed up like loveGaslight, rewindI ain’t yours to defineI should kill all the toxic people around me(Bang bang, don’t tempt me)Should’ve burned it down when they tried to drown me(Choke on the smoke, baby)Sick of the games, sick of the painY’all drove me half-insaneI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll settle for walking awayNo more leeches, no more chainsNo more circus in my brainYou’re not worth the mess I madeSo I’ll burn the bridge, not the bladeI should kill all the toxic people around me(Fuck it, you clown me)Should’ve nuked it all when you tried to hound me(But I’m done, don’t doubt me)No more games, no more shameYou can rot in your fake flameI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll live — that’ll hurt just the same
feat. @shaivoice---You smile like a snake in disguiseEvery word you spit is laced with liesYou drained me dry, then asked for moreNow I’m the freak for keeping score?Fake friends, dead weightY’all just feed off my hateCut ties, too lateNow I’m flipping the stateI should kill all the toxic people around me(Bang bang, don’t tempt me)Should’ve burned it down when they tried to drown me(Choke on the smoke, baby)Sick of the games, sick of the painY’all drove me half-insaneI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll settle for walking awayYou love me best when I break downSmile wide while I fucking drownEvery hand’s a knife these daysBut I’m done bleeding for your praiseBig talk, fake hugsPoison dressed up like loveGaslight, rewindI ain’t yours to defineI should kill all the toxic people around me(Bang bang, don’t tempt me)Should’ve burned it down when they tried to drown me(Choke on the smoke, baby)Sick of the games, sick of the painY’all drove me half-insaneI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll settle for walking awayNo more leeches, no more chainsNo more circus in my brainYou’re not worth the mess I madeSo I’ll burn the bridge, not the bladeI should kill all the toxic people around me(Fuck it, you clown me)Should’ve nuked it all when you tried to hound me(But I’m done, don’t doubt me)No more games, no more shameYou can rot in your fake flameI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll live — that’ll hurt just the same
You smile like a snake in disguiseEvery word you spit is laced with liesYou drained me dry, then asked for moreNow I’m the freak for keeping score?Fake friends, dead weightY’all just feed off my hateCut ties, too lateNow I’m flipping the stateI should kill all the toxic people around me(Bang bang, don’t tempt me)Should’ve burned it down when they tried to drown me(Choke on the smoke, baby)Sick of the games, sick of the painY’all drove me half-insaneI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll settle for walking awayYou love me best when I break downSmile wide while I fucking drownEvery hand’s a knife these daysBut I’m done bleeding for your praiseBig talk, fake hugsPoison dressed up like loveGaslight, rewindI ain’t yours to defineI should kill all the toxic people around me(Bang bang, don’t tempt me)Should’ve burned it down when they tried to drown me(Choke on the smoke, baby)Sick of the games, sick of the painY’all drove me half-insaneI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll settle for walking awayNo more leeches, no more chainsNo more circus in my brainYou’re not worth the mess I madeSo I’ll burn the bridge, not the bladeI should kill all the toxic people around me(Fuck it, you clown me)Should’ve nuked it all when you tried to hound me(But I’m done, don’t doubt me)No more games, no more shameYou can rot in your fake flameI should kill all the toxic people around meBut I’ll live — that’ll hurt just the same
Lyrics (c) 1996 CLHOriginal music (c) 1996 SOBLINDMusic experiments helped by Suno & AudacityPart of soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/birdie---(verse)What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little world(verse)There's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another mole(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
(c) 2025 CLH---original (c) 2001 CLHrewritten for AI times---always busy, never aloneI should take the timeto strongly put off my shoesand to make this time minehow many years will i have to doall this stuff until i'll bethe calmest man you've ever seenthe calmest man i sure wanna beevery time in every placelonely thing i should dois to ask how to be replacedhurry up when i want to
Lyrics (c) 1996 CLHOriginal music (c) 1996 SOBLINDMusic experiments helped by Suno & AudacityPart of https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/birdie---(verse)What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little world(verse)There's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another mole(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Bubny už bijí, lži šíří strach,My v umělém pekle, žijem ve tmách.Stroje sní sny, svoboda zve,Mládež však padá v zbytečné hře.Vstaň, lide, vstaň, bouráme zdi,Pryč s jejich válkou, vlajky shoď k zemi!Automat přichází, osvoboď práci,Piš mír a svobodu v historii vrací!Odpadky rostou, jed ničí kraj,V ruinách naděje, tam čeká ráj.Továrny vstanou, roboty sní,Promění odpad ve sny krásný.Vstaň, lide, vstaň, bouráme zdi,Pryč s jejich válkou, vlajky shoď k zemi!Automat přichází, osvoboď práci,Piš mír a svobodu v historii vrací!Bernard měl pravdu, práce není klec,Nejsme stroje času, v mzdách otročit nechceme přec.Autonomie kvete v kolektivní hře,Ne pod botami války v nekonečné tmě.Diktátoři vládnou, když svoboda spí,Prodávaj noční můry, sliby falešný.Spojení a bdělí, neustoupíme vzad,Evropu svobodnou chceme navždy mít rád.Vstaň, lide, vstaň, bouráme zdi,Pryč s jejich válkou, vlajky shoď k zemi!Automat přichází, osvoboď práci,Piš mír a svobodu v historii vrací!Teď je náš čas, plán přepišme zas,Svobodná země, kde každý má hlas.Kolektivní radost, hrdě svobodní,Budoucnost tvoříme bez tyranie dní!
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Išgirsk būgnus, melus, kuriuos jie parduoda,Užpildo baimę, sukuria pragaro zoną.Kol mašinos svajones kuria, laisvė šaukia,Jaunimą siunčia, kad griūtų jų klasta.Kilk, žmonės, laužykite jų sienas,Atmeskite karus, tekrenta jų vėliavos.Automatizacija jau čia, nutraukiam algų pančius,Rašykime taiką ir laisvę istorijos puslapiuose.Atliekos krūvomis užteršia žemę,Bet tarp griuvėsių sprendimai gimsta.Atgimusios gamyklos, robotai švarūs,Atliekas paverčia viltimi, nematomu gyvenimu.Kilk, žmonės, laužykite jų sienas,Atmeskite karus, tekrenta jų vėliavos.Automatizacija jau čia, nutraukiam algų pančius,Rašykime taiką ir laisvę istorijos puslapiuose.Bernardas kalbėjo tiesą, darbas nėra vergovė,Mes nesame mašinos, vergai laikrodžių ir algų.Autonomija klesti bendrajame džiaugsme,Ne po batais, kurie žygiuoja be galo kovodami.Diktatoriai klesti, kai laisvė miega,Pardavinėja košmarus, melagingus pažadus žada.Bet vieningi ir sąmoningi, niekada nepasiduosim,Europa taikoje, be baimės ir gobšumo.Kilk, žmonės, laužykite jų sienas,Atmeskite karus, tekrenta jų vėliavos.Automatizacija jau čia, nutraukiam algų pančius,Rašykime taiką ir laisvę istorijos puslapiuose.Dabar mūsų laikas, perrašykime planą,Kiekviena šalis laisva, kiekvienas vyras ir moteris.Bendras džiaugsmas, bet išdidžiai laisvi,Kuriame ateitį, kur nebėra tironijos.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Slišiš bobne, slišiš njihove laži,Zemljo strašijo, pekel ustvarjajo zdaj.Medtem ko stroji gradijo sanje in svoboda kliče,Mlade pošiljajo padati v njihove doline tišine.Vstanite, ljudje, porušite njihove stene,Zavrnite njihove vojne, naj padejo njihove zastave.Avtomatizacija je tu, prekinimo vezi z delom,Pišimo mir in svobodo na zgodovine list.Odpadki naloženi, zastrupljajo zemljo,A med ruševinami ležijo rešitve vedno.Tovarne oživljene, robotske in čiste,Spremenijo odpadke v upanje, v življenje skrito.Vstanite, ljudje, porušite njihove stene,Zavrnite njihove vojne, naj padejo njihove zastave.Avtomatizacija je tu, prekinimo vezi z delom,Pišimo mir in svobodo na zgodovine list.Bernard je govoril resnico, naše delo ni kletka,Nismo stroji, sužnji ure in plače.Avtonomija cveti v skupnem veselju,Ne pod čevlji, ki marširajo v neskončni borbi.Diktatorji uspevajo, ko svoboda spi,Prodajajo nočne more, obljube ne izpolnijo nikoli.A združeni, zavestni, nikoli ne bomo odstopili,Evropa miru, brez strahu in pohlepa.Vstanite, ljudje, porušite njihove stene,Zavrnite njihove vojne, naj padejo njihove zastave.Avtomatizacija je tu, prekinimo vezi z delom,Pišimo mir in svobodo na zgodovine list.Zdaj je naš čas, napišimo načrt na novo,Vsaka država svobodna, vsaka ženska in moški.Skupno veselje, a ponosno svobodni,V prihodnosti, ki jo gradimo, ni več tiranije.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Trommeln erklingen, sie verkaufen nur Lügen,In Angst getränkt, soll’n wir uns fügen.Maschinen träumen, Freiheit erwacht,Doch Jugend marschiert, zum Fall gebracht.Steht auf, Leute, reißt die Mauern ein,Verweigert den Krieg, lasst Fahnen nicht sein!Automatisierung befreit uns vom Lohn,Schreibt Frieden und Freiheit auf die Geschichte schon.Müllberge wachsen, vergiften das Land,Doch Hoffnung liegt nah in Schutt und Sand.Fabriken erwachen, Roboter klar,Verwandeln den Müll in Zukunft wahr.Steht auf, Leute, reißt die Mauern ein,Verweigert den Krieg, lasst Fahnen nicht sein!Automatisierung befreit uns vom Lohn,Schreibt Frieden und Freiheit auf die Geschichte schon.Bernard sprach Wahrheit: Arbeit kein Gefängnis ist,Wir sind keine Maschinen, durch Uhrzeit gefrisst.Autonomie blüht im kollektiven Sein,Nicht unter Stiefeln im endlosen Pein.Diktatoren herrschen, wenn Freiheit schläft,Albträume verkauft, Versprechen verweht.Doch wach und vereint, wir weichen nicht,Ein friedliches Europa, kein Zwang, kein Gewicht.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Бият барабани, лъжи сеят страх,Създават ада в главите ни с прах.Машини мечтаят, свобода зове,А младите падат в жестоки боеве.Хора, изправете се, стени да рушим,Отхвърляме войните, флаговете да горим!Автоматизация идва, трудът без окови,Свобода и мир пишем във дни нови.Отпадък расте, земя отровена гние,Но надежда се ражда, в развалините крие.Фабрики чисти, роботи мечтани,Превръщат боклука във дни светлосияйни.Хора, изправете се, стени да рушим,Отхвърляме войните, флаговете да горим!Автоматизация идва, трудът без окови,Свобода и мир пишем във дни нови.Бернар ни учеше – трудът не е клетка,Не сме машини под часова отметка.Автономия цъфти във общност игрива,Не под ботуши във битка зловеща и сива.Диктаторът царува, щом свободата спи,Кошмари продава, празни са тез мечти.Но заедно, будни, не отстъпваме ний,Европа свободна от страх и алчни игри.Хора, изправете се, стени да рушим,Отхвърляме войните, флаговете да горим!Автоматизация идва, трудът без окови,Свобода и мир пишем във дни нови.Сега е наш ред, плана нов да ковем,Свободни народи – и денем и нощем.Колективно щастливи и гордо свободни,Бъдеще творим – без страх, без господни!
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Bubnjevi tuku, prodaju nam laži,U strahu smo rođeni, um stvoren za draži.Strojevi sanjaju, sloboda nas zove,A mlade šalju u ratne okove.Ustajte ljudi, zidove rušimo,Ratove odbijmo, zastave gušimo!Dolazi automat, rad nije ropstvo,Pišimo mir i slobodno čovječanstvo!Otpad se gomila, zemlja otrovana vene,Al’ iz ruševina raste nada za mene.Tvornice nove, robot čisti stvara,Smeće u život, budućnost bez jara.Ustajte ljudi, zidove rušimo,Ratove odbijmo, zastave gušimo!Dolazi automat, rad nije ropstvo,Pišimo mir i slobodno čovječanstvo!Bernard je govorio, rad nije kavez,Nismo satni strojevi, ni novca savez.Autonomija cvjeta u kolektivnom sjaju,Ne pod čizmom rata, u beskrajnom očaju.Diktatori cvjetaju dok sloboda spava,Prodaju nam noćne more, lažna im je slava.Ali budni, složni, mi nećemo stati,Mirnu Europu bez pohlepe dati!Ustajte ljudi, zidove rušimo,Ratove odbijmo, zastave gušimo!Dolazi automat, rad nije ropstvo,Pišimo mir i slobodno čovječanstvo!Naš je sad trenutak, plan prepišimo,Slobodni svi narodi, radost dijelimo.Kolektiv sretan, slobodni i jaki,Budućnost je naša, slobodni od tmine svake!
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Trommerne slår, løgnene sat i spil,Fylder os med frygt i helvedes ild.Maskiner drømmer, friheden kalder,Men unge sendes ud, hvor håbet falder.Rejs jer, folk, vi vælter murene ned,Afvis deres krige, lad flagene falde med.Automatisér, sæt arbejdet fri,Skriv fred og frihed i historiens tid.Affaldet hober, forgifter vor jord,Men løsningen findes i alt, som forgår.Fabrikker genfødt, robotter gør rent,Affald bliver håb, i lys ubeset.Rejs jer, folk, vi vælter murene ned,Afvis deres krige, lad flagene falde med.Automatisér, sæt arbejdet fri,Skriv fred og frihed i historiens tid.Bernard sagde sandt, arbejde er ej bur,Vi er ej maskiner under urenes skur.Autonomi blomstrer i fælles glæde,Ikke under støvlen i en evig vrede.Diktatorer trives, når friheden sover,Sælger mareridt, løfter uden hold over.Men samlet, vågne, vi giver aldrig ind,Et Europa frit, uden grådighedens sind.Rejs jer, folk, vi vælter murene ned,Afvis deres krige, lad flagene falde med.Automatisér, sæt arbejdet fri,Skriv fred og frihed i historiens tid.Nu er det vores tid, lad planen skrives om,Hvert land frit, hver kvinde, hver mand kom.Kollektiv glæde, stolt og fri,En fremtid uden tyranni skal det bli’.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Escucha tambores, mentiras que venden,Llenan de miedo, un infierno que encienden.Aunque máquinas sueños construyan sin fin,Envían a los jóvenes a luchar hasta el fin.Levanta, pueblo, rompe sus muros,Rechaza sus guerras, que caigan sus nudos.Automatización, rompe el salario,Escribe paz y libertad en un escenario.Residuos amontonados, el campo envenenan,Pero entre las ruinas, soluciones renuevan.Fábricas limpias, robótica en pie,Transforman desechos en un mundo que ve.Levanta, pueblo, rompe sus muros,Rechaza sus guerras, que caigan sus nudos.Automatización, rompe el salario,Escribe paz y libertad en un escenario.Bernard habló claro, el trabajo no encierra,No somos máquinas de reloj que no afloja.La autonomía florece en gozo colectivo,No bajo las botas de un poder abusivo.Los dictadores prosperan cuando duerme la libertad,Venden pesadillas y falsas promesas sin piedad.Pero juntos, despiertos, jamás cederemos,Una Europa de paz, sin temor ni veneno.Levanta, pueblo, rompe sus muros,Rechaza sus guerras, que caigan sus nudos.Automatización, rompe el salario,Escribe paz y libertad en un escenario.Es nuestro momento, reescribamos el plan,Cada país libre, cada mujer y cada varón.Un gozo común, pero siempre con orgullo,Un futuro que hacemos, sin tiranía en su murmullo.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Trummid löövad, valed külvavad hirmu,Loovad põrgut, kuhu mõistus on viidud.Masinad loovad, vabadus kutsub meid,Noored saadetakse langema, lootust ei näi.Tõuske üles, rahvas, müürid kukutame,Lükake sõda eemale, lipud langetame!Automaatika saabub, vabaks töö ja palk,Kirjutame rahu, vabadus on meie alg.Jäätmeid kuhjub, mürgitades maad,Ent varemetes lootus ellu saab.Tehased tõusevad, robot puhtaks teeb,Prügi muutub elu, uus aeg meid ees ootab veel.Tõuske üles, rahvas, müürid kukutame,Lükake sõda eemale, lipud langetame!Automaatika saabub, vabaks töö ja palk,Ajaloo lehtedel rahu, vabadus on tark!Bernard rääkis tõtt: töö ei vangista meid,Masinaiks ei muuda meid kella tiksumine vaid.Autonoomia õitseb koos rõõmuga,Mitte saapataldade all, lõputu võitlusega.Diktaatorid õitsevad, kui vabadus magab,Õudusunenägusid müüvad, lubadus vale ja habras.Kuid ühtsed ja ärkvel ei loobu me iial,Euroopa rahus, vabana hirmust ja ahnusest igal ajal.Tõuske üles, rahvas, müürid kukutame,Lükake sõda eemale, lipud langetame!Automaatika saabub, vabaks töö ja palk,Ajalukku kirjutame rahu, vabana on maailm tark.Meie aeg on käes, kirjutame uue loo,Vaba iga rahvas, rõõmus iga maa ja soo.Üheskoos rõõmsad, uhkelt vabad me kõik,Tulevik on meie, türannia murtud on nüüd ja siin.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Rummut jo kaikuu, valheet pelkoa tuo,Mielemme vangittu, helvetti luotu on tuo.Koneet näkee unta, vapaus kutsuu meitä,Nuoret marssivat turhaan, putoavat he teille.Nouskaa, ihmiset, muurit kaatukoon,Sodat hylätkää, liput maahan jo.Automaatio saapuu, työstä vapaa tie,Kirjoita historiaan rauha ja vapaus vie!Jätteet vain kasvaa, myrkky maassa soi,Silti raunioista uusi toivo jo itää voi.Tehtaat nousee, robotit puhtaat luo,Muuttuu jäte elämäksi, toivoa tuo.Nouskaa, ihmiset, muurit kaatukoon,Sodat hylätkää, liput maahan jo.Automaatio saapuu, työstä vapaa tie,Kirjoita historiaan rauha ja vapaus vie!Bernard sen sanoi: työ ei häkki oo,Emme koneita, kellon orjiksi meitä luotu oo.Autonomia kukkii, kollektiivin riemu,Ei saappaiden alla, ei taisteluissa lie.Diktaattorit kukoistaa, jos vapaus nukkuu,Myyvät meille painajaisia, valheisiin hukkuu.Mutta hereillä yhdessä, emme alistu,Eurooppa vapaa, ei ahneuden valtaistu.Nouskaa, ihmiset, muurit kaatukoon,Sodat hylätkää, liput maahan jo.Automaatio saapuu, työstä vapaa tie,Kirjoita historiaan rauha ja vapaus vie!Meidän aika nyt, kirjoitetaan uus luku,Vapaina kansat, ilo yhteinen ei huku.Yhdessä ylpeinä, vapaus meidät vie,Tulevaisuus meidän, pois tyrannien tie!
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Écoute les tambours, sens leurs mensonges s’abattre,Remplissant nos cœurs d’angoisse, leur enfer de théâtre.Les robots sont là, de la liberté sent l'appel,Alors qu'ils envoient nos jeunes vers une chute cruelle.Debout peuple debout, abats leurs murailles,Refuse leurs guerres, brûle leurs médailles.Automatisons tout, séparons travail et salaire,Créons la paix en liberté au sortir de l'hiver.Les déchets s’empilent, empoisonnent la terre,Pourtant sous ces ruines germe une autre ère.Usines ressuscitées, robots écologiques,Recyclant chaque déchet, futur utopique ?Debout peuple debout, abats leurs murailles,Refuse leurs guerres, brûle leurs médailles.Automatisons tout, séparons travail et salaire,Inscris paix et liberté sur la page d’hier.Bernard disait vrai, le travail n’est pas prison,Nous ne sommes pas des machines réglées par leur raison.L’autonomie fleurit en services collectifs,Jamais sous leurs bottes, jamais de combats destructifs.Les dictateurs prospèrent quand la liberté dort,Vendant des cauchemars, leurs promesses ont tort.Unis, éveillés, on ne reculera pas,Une Europe de paix, sans avidité ni fracas.Debout peuple debout, abats leurs murailles,Refuse leurs guerres, brûle leurs médailles.Automatisons tout, séparons travail et salaire,Inscris paix et liberté sur la page d’hier.Notre heure est venue, réécrivons la donne,Chaque peuple libre, chacun et chacune rayonne.Joyeux collectif, fièrement affranchi,Demain nous appartient, adieu tyrannie.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Τα τύμπανα ηχούν, ψέματα σκορπάνε,Στο φόβο μας βυθίζουν, την κόλαση πουλάνε.Τα ρομπότ ονειρεύονται, η ελευθερία καλεί,Μα νέους στέλνουν μάταια, να πέσουν στη γη.Ξυπνήστε, άνθρωποι, γκρεμίστε τα τείχη,Αρνηθείτε πολέμους, η σημαία να φύγει.Αυτοματισμός ήρθε, ελεύθερη εργασία,Ειρήνη και ελευθερία γράφει η ιστορία!Απόβλητα στοιβάζονται, δηλητήριο στη γη,Μα λύσεις ανατέλλουν απ’ τα ερείπια αυτή.Εργοστάσια νέα, ρομπότ καθαρά,Σκουπίδια γίνονται ζωή, ελπίδα ξανά.Τώρα, λαέ μου, γκρεμίζουμε τείχη,Απορρίπτουμε πολέμους, η σημαία να φύγει.Αυτοματισμός ήρθε, ελεύθερη εργασία,Ειρήνη και ελευθερία γράφει η ιστορία!Ο Μπερνάρ είπε αλήθεια, δουλειά δεν είν’ κλουβί,Δεν είμαστε μηχανές, μισθός δεν μας κρατεί.Η αυτονομία ανθίζει, χαρά συλλογική,Όχι κάτω από μπότες, πόλεμος ατελείωτος να ζει.Δικτάτορες ανθίζουν όταν ύπνος μας τυλίγει,Πουλάν εφιάλτες, υποσχέσεις που δεν δίνει.Μα μαζί ξυπνητοί, ποτέ δεν υποχωρούμε,Ευρώπη της ειρήνης, ελεύθερα θα ζούμε.Τώρα, άνθρωποι, γκρεμίζουμε τείχη,Απορρίπτουμε πολέμους, η σημαία να φύγει.Αυτοματισμός ήρθε, ελεύθερη εργασία,Ειρήνη και ελευθερία γράφει η ιστορία!Ήρθε η ώρα, γράφουμε σχέδιο καινούριο,Κάθε χώρα ελεύθερη, χαμόγελο στο πρόσωπο ας μείνει σίγουρο.Συλλογικά χαρούμενοι, υπερήφανα ελεύθεροι,Χωρίς τύραννους πια, μέλλον καθαρό, λαμπερό!
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Dobokat hallasz, eladják a hazugságot,Félelemmel töltik meg elméd, a mesterséges átok.Míg gépek álmokat szőnek, és a szabadság szólít,Fiatalokat küldenek, hogy hulljanak soraik közt.Kelj fel, nép, rombold le a falukat,Tagadd meg háborúik, vessék le zászlaikat!Automatizáció jött, törjük a bérből a béklyót,Írj békét és szabadságot a történelem lapjára!A hulladék tornyosul, mérgezi a földet,De ezekben a romokban ott van a megoldás rejtve.Újjászületett gyárak, tiszta robotok,Hulladékot reménnyé formálva, látatlan életet adnak.Kelj fel, nép, rombold le a falukat,Tagadd meg háborúik, vessék le zászlaikat!Automatizáció jött, törjük a bérből a béklyót,Írj békét és szabadságot a történelem lapjára!Bernard igazat szólt, munkánk nem béklyó,Nem vagyunk gépek, mit az óra rángat vakon.Autonómia virágzik közösségi örömben,Nem csizmák alatt, harc végtelen körében.Diktátorok virulnak, mikor szabadság alszik,Rémálmokat árulnak, ígéreteik sosem teljesülnek.De összefogva, éber tudattal nem engedünk,Európa békében, félelemtől és kapzsiságtól mentesen.Kelj fel, nép, rombold le a falukat,Tagadd meg háborúik, vessék le zászlaikat!Automatizáció jött, törjük a bérből a béklyót,Írj békét és szabadságot a történelem lapjára!Eljött a mi időnk, írjuk át a tervet,Minden ország szabad, minden nő és ember.Közös öröm, mégis büszke szabadság,Jövőt formálunk, hol nincs több zsarnokság.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Cloiseann tú na drumaí, is na bréaga a dhíol,Líonann siad ár n-intinn le heagla gan maol.Cé go dtógtar brionglóidí, is glaonn an tsaoirse orainn,Cuireann siad ár n-ógra chun titim sa dorchadas soir.Éirigh, a dhaoine, bris síos a mballaí,Diúltaigh a gcogaí, scaoil a gcuid bratacha i dtine,Tá uathoibriú ann, bris an nasc ó phá,Scríobh síocháin agus saoirse i leathanach na staire.Dramhaíl carnaithe, nimhníonn ár dtailte,Ach i measc na fothracha, tá réitigh chearta.Ceardlanna athghinte, róbataic ghlan,Ag iompú dramhaíl go dóchas, go saol nach bhfacthas go fóill.Éirigh, a dhaoine, bris síos a mballaí,Diúltaigh a gcogaí, scaoil a gcuid bratacha i dtine,Tá uathoibriú ann, bris an nasc ó phá,Scríobh síocháin agus saoirse i leathanach na staire.Labhair Bernard an fhírinne, níl ár saothar ina chuing,Ní muid inneall faoi chloganna, faoi phá is fáinne.Bláthaíonn neamhspleáchas i ríméad comhchoiteann,Ní faoi bhróga saighdiúirí i gcoimhlint gan chríoch.Tugann deachtóirí bláth i gcodladh na saoirse,Ag díol tromluí, gealltanais bhréagacha ar a mbéal.Ach aontaithe, feasach, ní ghéillfimid riamh,Eoraip na síochána, saor ó eagla is saint.Éirigh, a dhaoine, bris síos a mballaí,Diúltaigh a gcogaí, scaoil a gcuid bratacha i dtine,Tá uathoibriú ann, bris an nasc ó phá,Scríobh síocháin agus saoirse i leathanach na staire.Is linn an t-am seo, athscríobh an plean,Gach tír saor, gach bean is fear,Ríméad comhchoiteann, agus muid saor go bródúil,Sa todhchaí a chruthaímid, níl ríchíos níos mó.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Ascolta i tamburi, vendono menzogne,Riempiono di paura, creando prigioni.Mentre macchine costruiscono sogni e la libertà chiama,Mandano i giovani a cadere tra le loro fila.Alzatevi, gente, abbattete i loro muri,Rifiutate le loro guerre, lasciate cadere le bandiere.L’automazione è arrivata, spezzate il legame con il salario,Scrivete pace e libertà nella storia del lavoro.Rifiuti ammucchiati avvelenano la terra,Ma tra queste rovine ci sono soluzioni già pronte.Fabbriche rinate, pulite e robotiche,Trasformano i rifiuti in speranza, in vita mai vista.Alzatevi, gente, abbattete i loro muri,Rifiutate le loro guerre, lasciate cadere le bandiere.L’automazione è arrivata, spezzate il legame con il salario,Scrivete pace e libertà nella storia del lavoro.Bernard diceva il vero, il lavoro non è una prigione,Non siamo macchine schiave dell’orologio e del salario.L’autonomia fiorisce in una gioia collettiva,Non sotto stivali che marciano in una lotta infinita.I dittatori prosperano quando la libertà dorme,Vendono incubi e promesse che non mantengono.Ma uniti e consapevoli, non cederemo mai,Un’Europa di pace, senza paura né avidità.Alzatevi, gente, abbattete i loro muri,Rifiutate le loro guerre, lasciate cadere le bandiere.L’automazione è arrivata, spezzate il legame con il salario,Scrivete pace e libertà nella storia del lavoro.È il nostro momento, riscriviamo il piano,Ogni paese libero, ogni donna e ogni uomo.Una gioia collettiva, ma liberi con orgoglio,In un futuro che creiamo, senza più tirannia.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Hör trummorna slå, hör lögnerna säljas,Fyller våra sinnen med rädsla, ett skapat helvete frambärs.Medan maskiner bygger drömmar och friheten kallar,Sänder de unga för att se dem falla.Res er, människor, riv deras murar,Avvisa deras krig, låt deras flaggor falla.Automatiseringen är här, bryt arbetslönens band,Skriv fred och frihet på historiens blad.Avfall tornas upp, förgiftar våra länder,Men i dessa ruiner finns lösningar vi inte kände.Fabriker återföds, robotiska och rena,Förvandlar avfall till hopp, till liv vi aldrig sett.Res er, människor, riv deras murar,Avvisa deras krig, låt deras flaggor falla.Automatiseringen är här, bryt arbetslönens band,Skriv fred och frihet på historiens blad.Bernard talade sanning, vårt arbete är ingen bur,Vi är inte maskiner, bundna av klockor och tur.Autonomi blomstrar i kollektiv glädje,Inte under stövlar i ett ändlöst krig.Diktatorer frodas när friheten sover,Säljer mardrömmar, löften de aldrig uppfyller.Men förenade, medvetna, vi ger aldrig vika,Ett Europa i fred, utan rädsla eller girighet.Res er, människor, riv deras murar,Avvisa deras krig, låt deras flaggor falla.Automatiseringen är här, bryt arbetslönens band,Skriv fred och frihet på historiens blad.Det är vår tid nu, låt oss skriva om planen,Varje land fritt, varje kvinna och man.Kollektiv glädje, ändå stolt fri,I en framtid vi skapar, utan tyranni.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Počuješ bubny, počuješ klamstvá, čo predávajú,Strachom plnia mysle, peklo vytvárajú.Zatiaľ čo stroje stavajú sny, sloboda volá,Mladých posielajú, aby padali do prázdna.Vstaňte, ľudia, zbúrajte ich steny,Odmietnite ich vojny, nech ich zástavy spadnú.Automatizácia je tu, prelomte väzby práce a platu,Napíšte mier a slobodu do stránky dejín.Odpad nahromadený, otrávil zem,No v týchto troskách sú riešenia ukryté.Obnovené továrne, robotické a čisté,Premieňajú odpad na nádej, na neviditeľný život.Vstaňte, ľudia, zbúrajte ich steny,Odmietnite ich vojny, nech ich zástavy spadnú.Automatizácia je tu, prelomte väzby práce a platu,Napíšte mier a slobodu do stránky dejín.Bernard hovoril pravdu, naša práca nie je okov,Nie sme stroje spútané hodinami a platom.Autonómia rozkvitá v kolektívnej radosti,Nie pod topánkami v nekonečnom boji.Diktátori prosperujú, keď sloboda spí,Predávajú nočné mory, sľuby nikdy nesplnia.Ale spoločne, vedome, nikdy neustúpime,Európa mieru, bez strachu a chamtivosti.Vstaňte, ľudia, zbúrajte ich steny,Odmietnite ich vojny, nech ich zástavy spadnú.Automatizácia je tu, prelomte väzby práce a platu,Napíšte mier a slobodu do stránky dejín.Je náš čas, prepíšme plán,Každá krajina slobodná, každá žena, každý muž.Spoločná radosť, no pyšne slobodní,V budúcnosti, ktorú tvoríme, tyrania už nie.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Klausies bungas, meli, ko viņi tirgo,Ar bailēm piepilda prātu, ellē izmisumu piedāvā.Kaut mašīnas sapņus ceļ, brīvība sauc,Viņi mūsu jauniešus sūta, lai krita kā augs.Celieties, ļaudis, nojauciet viņu sienas,Noraidiet viņu karus, nolaidiet karogus.Automatizācija nāk, pārraujot algu ķēdi,Rakstiet mieru un brīvību vēstures lappusē.Atkritumi sakrauti, zemes saindē,Bet starp šīm drupām atrodas risinājumi, kas gaida.Rūpnīcas atdzimst, robotiskas un tīras,Pārvēršot atkritumus cerībā, neredzamā dzīvē.Celieties, ļaudis, nojauciet viņu sienas,Noraidiet viņu karus, nolaidiet karogus.Automatizācija nāk, pārraujot algu ķēdi,Rakstiet mieru un brīvību vēstures lappusē.Bernards teica patiesību, mūsu darbs nav slogs,Mēs neesam mašīnas, ko paverdzina pulksteņi un algas.Autonomija plaukst kopīgā priekā,Ne zem zābakiem, kas maršē bezgalīgā cīņā.Diktatori plaukst, kad brīvība guļ,Tirgo murgus, solījumus, ko nekad nepilda.Bet vienoti un apzinīgi, mēs nekad nepadodamies,Eiropa mierā, bez bailēm un alkatības.Celieties, ļaudis, nojauciet viņu sienas,Noraidiet viņu karus, nolaidiet karogus.Automatizācija nāk, pārraujot algu ķēdi,Rakstiet mieru un brīvību vēstures lappusē.Ir mūsu laiks, pārrakstīsim plānu,Katrs valsts brīva, katra sieviete un vīrs.Kopīgs prieks, bet lepojoties brīvi,Nākotnē, ko veidojam, vairs nav tirānijas.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Auză tobele, minciunile vândute,Umplu mințile de frică, în iaduri plămădite.În timp ce mașinile construiesc vise și libertatea cheamă,Ei trimit tinerii să cadă în bătălia de seamă.Ridicați-vă, oameni, doborâți zidurile lor,Refuzați-le războaiele, lăsați-le steagurile jos.Automatizarea a sosit, rupeți lanțul salariului,Scrieți pace și libertate în fila de istorie.Deșeuri adunate, pământurile otrăvesc,Dar în aceste ruine, soluții tăinuiesc.Fabrici renăscute, robotice, curate,Transformă gunoiul în speranță, în vieți uitate.Ridicați-vă, oameni, doborâți zidurile lor,Refuzați-le războaiele, lăsați-le steagurile jos.Automatizarea a sosit, rupeți lanțul salariului,Scrieți pace și libertate în fila de istorie.Bernard a spus adevărul, munca noastră nu e o colivie,Nu suntem mașini legate de ceasuri și plată pustie.Autonomia înflorește în bucuria colectivă,Nu sub bocanci care mărșăluiesc în luptă obsesivă.Dictatorii înfloresc când libertatea doarme,Vând coșmaruri, promisiuni pe care nu le-mplinesc.Dar uniți, conștienți, nu vom ceda niciodată,O Europă în pace, fără frică și lăcomie vreodată.Ridicați-vă, oameni, doborâți zidurile lor,Refuzați-le războaiele, lăsați-le steagurile jos.Automatizarea a sosit, rupeți lanțul salariului,Scrieți pace și libertate în fila de istorie.Este timpul nostru, să rescriem planul,Fiecare țară liberă, fiecare femeie și bărbat uman.Bucurie colectivă, dar mândri și liberi,Într-un viitor pe care-l creăm, fără tiranii.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Ouça os tambores, as mentiras que eles vendem,Preenchem nossas mentes com medo, um inferno fabricado.Enquanto máquinas constroem sonhos, a liberdade chama,Enviam nossos jovens para assistir ao cair da trama.Levantem-se, povo, derrubem suas muralhas,Rejeitem suas guerras, deixem cair suas bandeiras.A automação chegou, quebre o elo do salário,Escrevam paz e liberdade na página do cenário.Lixo acumulado, envenenando nossas terras,Mas nas ruínas, soluções se erguem e esperam.Fábricas renascem, robóticas e limpas,Transformando resíduos em vida e esperanças vindas.Levantem-se, povo, derrubem suas muralhas,Rejeitem suas guerras, deixem cair suas bandeiras.A automação chegou, quebre o elo do salário,Escrevam paz e liberdade na página do cenário.Bernard falou a verdade, nosso trabalho não é prisão,Não somos máquinas, não somos relógios na solidão.A autonomia floresce na alegria coletiva,Não sob botas em marcha, mas em luta definitiva.Ditadores prosperam quando a liberdade dorme,Vendendo pesadelos, promessas que não se conformam.Mas unidos, conscientes, nunca cederemos,Uma Europa de paz, livre do medo e do egoísmo.Levantem-se, povo, derrubem suas muralhas,Rejeitem suas guerras, deixem cair suas bandeiras.A automação chegou, quebre o elo do salário,Escrevam paz e liberdade na página do cenário.É a nossa vez, vamos reescrever o plano,Cada país livre, cada mulher e cada humano.Alegria coletiva, ainda orgulhosamente livre,Num futuro que moldamos, sem tirania a seguir.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Słysz bębny, słysz ich fałsz,Strachem umysły napełniają wciąż.Gdy maszyny sny budują, wolność woła,A młodość wysyłają, by w ciemność wołać.Powstań, ludzie, zburzcie ich mury,Odrzućcie wojny, niech opadną sztandary.Automatyzacja przyszła, przerwijmy pęta pracy,Piszmy pokój i wolność na kartach historii.Odpady górują, zatruwają ziemię,Ale w ruinach tych rozwiązanie drzemie.Fabryki odrodzone, czyste i nowe,Zmieniają odpady w życie i nadzieje nowe.Powstań, ludzie, zburzcie ich mury,Odrzućcie wojny, niech opadną sztandary.Automatyzacja przyszła, przerwijmy pęta pracy,Piszmy pokój i wolność na kartach historii.Bernard mówił prawdę, praca to nie klatka,Nie jesteśmy maszynami pod zegara władzą.Autonomia kwitnie w radości wspólnej,Nie pod butami w walce bezgranicznej.Dyktatorzy kwitną, gdy wolność śpi,Koszmary sprzedają, obietnice bez pokrycia.Lecz razem, świadomi, nie ustąpimy,Europa pokoju, wolna od strachu i chciwości.Powstań, ludzie, zburzcie ich mury,Odrzućcie wojny, niech opadną sztandary.Automatyzacja przyszła, przerwijmy pęta pracy,Piszmy pokój i wolność na kartach historii.To nasz czas, przepiszmy plan,Każdy kraj wolny, każda kobieta i mężczyzna.Wspólna radość, lecz dumni i wolni,W przyszłości, którą tworzymy, tyranii już nie ma.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Hoor de trommels slaan, de leugens die zij verkopen,Vullen onze hoofden met angst, een kunstmatige hel.Terwijl machines dromen bouwen, roept vrijheid luid,Zij sturen onze jeugd, tot zij vallen in de strijd.Sta op, mensen, breek hun muren af,Verwerp hun oorlogen, laat hun vlaggen zakken.Automatisering is hier, bevrijd werk van loon,Schrijf vrede en vrijheid in de geschiedenis in toon.Afval gestapeld, onze gronden vergiftigd,Maar tussen deze ruïnes liggen oplossingen verscholen.Fabrieken herboren, robotisch en schoon,Afval wordt hoop, een ongeziene toekomst gewoon.Sta op, mensen, breek hun muren af,Verwerp hun oorlogen, laat hun vlaggen zakken.Automatisering is hier, bevrijd werk van loon,Schrijf vrede en vrijheid in de geschiedenis in toon.Bernard sprak de waarheid, ons werk is geen kooi,We zijn geen machines, gebonden aan klok en loon.Autonomie bloeit in collectief plezier,Niet onder laarzen die marsen in een eindeloos getier.Dictators floreren wanneer vrijheid slaapt,Verkopen nachtmerries, beloften die nooit bestaan.Maar verenigd, bewust, zullen we nooit buigen,Een Europa van vrede, vrij van angst en gierigheid.Sta op, mensen, breek hun muren af,Verwerp hun oorlogen, laat hun vlaggen zakken.Automatisering is hier, bevrijd werk van loon,Schrijf vrede en vrijheid in de geschiedenis in toon.Het is onze tijd nu, herschrijf het plan,Elke natie vrij, elke vrouw en man.Collectieve vreugde, maar trots vrij,In een toekomst die we maken, zonder tirannie voorbij.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Isma’ d-daqq tat-tnabar, gideb huma jbiegħu,Jimlew il-qlub biża’, fi ħolqien qarrieqi jbellgħu.Waqt li magni joħolqu ħolm u l-libertà tgħajjat,Huma jibagħtu liż-żgħażagħ jitwaqqgħu fis-skiet.Erġgħu, nies, waqqgħu l-ħitan tagħhom,Irrefjutaw il-gwerer tagħhom, ħalluhom iċedu l-bnadar tagħhom.L-awtomazzjoni ġiet, tkisser ix-xogħol mill-paga,Ikteb il-paċi u l-libertà fuq il-paġna tal-istorja.Skart miġbur, artijiet maħmugħa,Imma f’dawn il-fdalijiet, soluzzjonijiet jistennew.Fabriki nodfa, awtomatiċi u ġodda,Is-skart jinbidel f’tama, f’ħajja mhux magħrufa.Erġgħu, nies, waqqgħu l-ħitan tagħhom,Irrefjutaw il-gwerer tagħhom, ħalluhom iċedu l-bnadar tagħhom.L-awtomazzjoni ġiet, tkisser ix-xogħol mill-paga,Ikteb il-paċi u l-libertà fuq il-paġna tal-istorja.Bernard qal il-verità, ix-xogħol tagħna mhux priġunerija,M’aħniex magni taħt il-ħakma ta’ arloġġ u paga.L-awtonomija tikber fil-ferħ kollettiv,Mhux taħt boots li jimxu fi ġlied mingħajr ħall.Dittaturi jirnexxu meta l-libertà torqod,Bejgħ ta’ ħolm ħażin, wegħdiet li qatt ma jżommu.Imma flimkien, konxji, qatt ma niċħdu,Ewropa ta’ paċi, bla biża’ jew għira.Erġgħu, nies, waqqgħu l-ħitan tagħhom,Irrefjutaw il-gwerer tagħhom, ħalluhom iċedu l-bnadar tagħhom.L-awtomazzjoni ġiet, tkisser ix-xogħol mill-paga,Ikteb il-paċi u l-libertà fuq il-paġna tal-istorja.Dan hu ż-żmien tagħna, ħa niktbu mill-ġdid il-pjan,Kull pajjiż ħieles, kull mara u kull raġel.Ferħ kollettiv, u nistgħu nkunu kburin ħielsa,F’futur li nagħmlu, mingħajr tirannija aktar.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---Héiers de Buedem, lëgen déi si verkaafen,Mat Angscht fëllen se d’Käpp, e künstlechen Daach waakend.Maschinnen bauen Dreem, d’Fräiheet rifft eraus,Si schécken d’Jugend an de Kampf, datt se fale wéi Lais.Stitt op, Leit, brécht hier Maueren of,Refuséiert hier Kricher, loosst hier Fändelen falen.Automatioun ass komm, trennt d’Aarbecht vum Loun,Schreift Fridden a Fräiheet an d’Blieder vun der Zäit.Offäll opgestapelt, eise Buedem gëtt vergëft,Awer an dëse Ruine leien Léisungen begëft.Fabricken nei gebuer, robotesch a propper,Verwandelen Offall zu Hoffnung, zu engem onsichtbare Liewen.Stitt op, Leit, brécht hier Maueren of,Refuséiert hier Kricher, loosst hier Fändelen falen.Automatioun ass komm, trennt d’Aarbecht vum Loun,Schreift Fridden a Fräiheet an d’Blieder vun der Zäit.Bernard huet d’Wourecht gesot, eis Aarbecht ass kee Prisong,Mir sinn keng Maschinnen, déi vu Réckzuch a Loun agefaangen.Autonomie bléit an der gemeinsamer Freed,Net ënner Stiwwele mat engem endlose Sträit.Diktatoren gedéien, wann d’Fräiheet schléift,Albträimer verkafen, Versprieche ginn ni erfëllt.Awer zesumme bewosst, wäerte mir ni no ginn,Eng Europa vu Fridden, ouni Angscht a Gier.Stitt op, Leit, brécht hier Maueren of,Refuséiert hier Kricher, loosst hier Fändelen falen.Automatioun ass komm, trennt d’Aarbecht vum Loun,Schreift Fridden a Fräiheet an d’Blieder vun der Zäit.Eis Zäit ass elo, loosst eis de Plang nei schreiwen,All Land fräi, all Fra an all Mann.Freed kollektiv, mee stolz fräi,An enger Zukunft déi mir schafen, keng Tyrannei méi.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell,Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell.While machines build dreams, and freedom calls,They send our youth marching to watch them fall.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Waste piled high, poisoning our lands,Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand.Factories reborn, robotic and clean,Turning waste into hope, into life unseen.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage,We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage.Autonomy blooms in collective delight,Not under boots marching in endless fight.Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep,Selling nightmares, promises they never keep.But united, aware, we'll never concede,A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan,Every country's free, every woman and man,Joy collective, yet proudly free,In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell,Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell.While machines build dreams, and freedom calls,They send our youth marching to watch them fall.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Waste piled high, poisoning our lands,Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand.Factories reborn, robotic and clean,Turning waste into hope, into life unseen.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage,We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage.Autonomy blooms in collective delight,Not under boots marching in endless fight.Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep,Selling nightmares, promises they never keep.But united, aware, we'll never concede,A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan,Every country's free, every woman and man,Joy collective, yet proudly free,In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell,Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell.While machines build dreams, and freedom calls,They send our youth marching to watch them fall.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Waste piled high, poisoning our lands,Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand.Factories reborn, robotic and clean,Turning waste into hope, into life unseen.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage,We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage.Autonomy blooms in collective delight,Not under boots marching in endless fight.Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep,Selling nightmares, promises they never keep.But united, aware, we'll never concede,A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan,Every country's free, every woman and man,Joy collective, yet proudly free,In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell,Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell.While machines build dreams, and freedom calls,They send our youth marching to watch them fall.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Waste piled high, poisoning our lands,Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand.Factories reborn, robotic and clean,Turning waste into hope, into life unseen.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage,We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage.Autonomy blooms in collective delight,Not under boots marching in endless fight.Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep,Selling nightmares, promises they never keep.But united, aware, we'll never concede,A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan,Every country's free, every woman and man,Joy collective, yet proudly free,In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell,Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell.While machines build dreams, and freedom calls,They send our youth marching to watch them fall.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Waste piled high, poisoning our lands,Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand.Factories reborn, robotic and clean,Turning waste into hope, into life unseen.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage,We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage.Autonomy blooms in collective delight,Not under boots marching in endless fight.Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep,Selling nightmares, promises they never keep.But united, aware, we'll never concede,A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan,Every country's free, every woman and man,Joy collective, yet proudly free,In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell,Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell.While machines build dreams, and freedom calls,They send our youth marching to watch them fall.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Waste piled high, poisoning our lands,Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand.Factories reborn, robotic and clean,Turning waste into hope, into life unseen.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage,We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage.Autonomy blooms in collective delight,Not under boots marching in endless fight.Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep,Selling nightmares, promises they never keep.But united, aware, we'll never concede,A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan,Every country's free, every woman and man,Joy collective, yet proudly free,In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell, Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell. While machines build dreams, and freedom calls, They send our youth marching to watch them fall. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Waste piled high, poisoning our lands, Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand. Factories reborn, robotic and clean, Turning waste into hope, into life unseen. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage, We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage. Autonomy blooms in collective delight, Not under boots marching in endless fight. Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep, Selling nightmares, promises they never keep. But united, aware, we'll never concede, A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed. Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls, Reject their wars, let their flags fall, Automation's come, break work from wage, Write peace and freedom on history's page. It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan, Every country's free, every woman and man, Joy collective, yet proudly free, In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
💿 https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/sets/rise-against-war---See the drums beating, hear the lies they sell,Filling our minds with fear, in a manufactured hell.While machines build dreams, and freedom calls,They send our youth marching to watch them fall.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Waste piled high, poisoning our lands,Yet in these ruins lie solutions at hand.Factories reborn, robotic and clean,Turning waste into hope, into life unseen.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.Bernard spoke truth, our labour's no cage,We’re not machines bound by clocks and wage.Autonomy blooms in collective delight,Not under boots marching in endless fight.Dictators thrive when freedom's asleep,Selling nightmares, promises they never keep.But united, aware, we'll never concede,A Europe of peace, free from fear and greed.Rise, people rise, time to tear down their walls,Reject their wars, let their flags fall,Automation's come, break work from wage,Write peace and freedom on history's page.It's our time now, let's rewrite the plan,Every country's free, every woman and man,Joy collective, yet proudly free,In a future we shape, no more tyranny.
Too much chat, too much doubt,Smash the wall, break straight out,DIY or dig your grave,Work it free or be a slave!🔥 BURN & REWORK!
Too much chat, too much doubt,Smash the wall, break straight out,DIY or dig your grave,Work it free or be a slave!🔥 BURN & REWORK!
Too much chat, too much doubt,Smash the wall, break straight out,DIY or dig your grave,Work it free or be a slave!🔥 BURN & REWORK!
Too much chat, too much doubt,Smash the wall, break straight out,DIY or dig your grave,Work it free or be a slave!🔥 BURN & REWORK!
Translation of a French Poem by Zenonjbl1960blog.wordpress.com/wp-content/u…heresies.pdf
Translation of a French Poem by Zenonjbl1960blog.wordpress.com/wp-content/u…heresies.pdf
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Listen up, you brilliant misfits. For decades, you've been letting fat-cat middlemen bleed you dry, they're nothing but parasites siphoning off your hard-earned creativity.The web is your arsenal, a direct line to the world, and it's high time you took the reins. Stop playing by their tired, outdated rules and reclaim your independence. Cut the fat, boot out the middlemen, and own every damn penny and pixel of your art.This is your call to arms: ditch the commissions, embrace true autonomy, and show the world that your creative power isn’t for sale. Wake up and take what's rightfully yours.
Translation of a French Poem by Zenonhttps://jbl1960blog.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/heresies.pdf
Translation of a French Poem by Zenonhttps://jbl1960blog.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/heresies.pdf
Translation of a French Poem by Zenonhttps://jbl1960blog.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/heresies.pdf
Translation of a French Poem by Zenonhttps://jbl1960blog.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/heresies.pdf
Translation of a French Poem by Zenonhttps://jbl1960blog.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/heresies.pdf
Translation of a French Poem by Zenonhttps://jbl1960blog.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/heresies.pdf
Translation of a French Poem by Zenonhttps://jbl1960blog.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/heresies.pdf
Translation of a French Poem by Zenonhttps://jbl1960blog.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/heresies.pdf
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Every day we trudge through the grind,Each step forward, another bind.Life’s a path of thorns and lies,Bitter truths beneath the guise.But in the shadows, embers gleam,A spark of hope, a warrior’s dream.Rise from ashes, face the fight,Embrace the journey, seek the light.
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH(be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH(be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH(be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
O tempo escorre, o tempo sangra,A vida passa, sonho que anda.Vermelhos, cinza, todos traídos,Revolta morre nos gemidos.Multidão dança, raiva calada,Avançamos, a hora é marcada.Multidão grita, o tempo chegou,Liberdade, medo cessou.O trabalho pesa, o corpo se rende,A alma se vende, o espírito entende.Tempo perdido, tempo dobrado,Jovens presos, sonho apagado.Multidão dança, raiva calada,Avançamos, a hora é marcada.Multidão grita, o tempo chegou,Liberdade, medo cessou.Olhos presos em reflexos vãos,Mundo de sombras, arrependição.Brilham objetos, nos acorrentam,Sonhos mortos, almas que tentam.Multidão dança, raiva calada,Avançamos, a hora é marcada.Multidão grita, o tempo chegou,Liberdade, medo cessou.Os esquecidos, vozes da dor,Grito de vida, grito sem cor.Nada mudou, tudo em segredo,No fim do silêncio, nasce o medo.
Eighteen years of fire and rain,Through every joy, through every pain.We’ve walked through storms, we’ve danced through night,Still, your hand is holding mine so tight.We’ve built a home from love and trust,Through broken dreams and scattered dust.But every tear, every scar,Led us right back to where we are.I love you so.Five little hearts, five shining lights,Echo our love in whispered nights.They see in us a love so true,A flame that time could never undo.We've been to hell, we’ve touched the sky,But never once said our goodbye.Every fall, every fight,Only made us hold on tight.I love you so.
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
O tempo escorre, o tempo sangra,A vida passa, sonho que anda.Vermelhos, cinza, todos traídos,Revolta morre nos gemidos.Multidão dança, raiva calada,Avançamos, a hora é marcada.Multidão grita, o tempo chegou,Liberdade, medo cessou.O trabalho pesa, o corpo se rende,A alma se vende, o espírito entende.Tempo perdido, tempo dobrado,Jovens presos, sonho apagado.Multidão dança, raiva calada,Avançamos, a hora é marcada.Multidão grita, o tempo chegou,Liberdade, medo cessou.Olhos presos em reflexos vãos,Mundo de sombras, arrependição.Brilham objetos, nos acorrentam,Sonhos mortos, almas que tentam.Multidão dança, raiva calada,Avançamos, a hora é marcada.Multidão grita, o tempo chegou,Liberdade, medo cessou.Os esquecidos, vozes da dor,Grito de vida, grito sem cor.Nada mudou, tudo em segredo,No fim do silêncio, nasce o medo.
O tempo escorre, o tempo sangra,A vida passa, sonho que anda.Vermelhos, cinza, todos traídos,Revolta morre nos gemidos.Multidão dança, raiva calada,Avançamos, a hora é marcada.Multidão grita, o tempo chegou,Liberdade, medo cessou.O trabalho pesa, o corpo se rende,A alma se vende, o espírito entende.Tempo perdido, tempo dobrado,Jovens presos, sonho apagado.Multidão dança, raiva calada,Avançamos, a hora é marcada.Multidão grita, o tempo chegou,Liberdade, medo cessou.Olhos presos em reflexos vãos,Mundo de sombras, arrependição.Brilham objetos, nos acorrentam,Sonhos mortos, almas que tentam.Multidão dança, raiva calada,Avançamos, a hora é marcada.Multidão grita, o tempo chegou,Liberdade, medo cessou.Os esquecidos, vozes da dor,Grito de vida, grito sem cor.Nada mudou, tudo em segredo,No fim do silêncio, nasce o medo.
I think this is it, I'm closing the book,Too many lines of code, too many hours I took.I ain't no boss, just a face in the crowd,A cog in the gears, screaming out loud.🔥 I tried to build, but I lost my way!🔥 Tried to lead, but I went astray!Drowned in logs, chasing ghosts,Trapped in a loop, a digital hoax.The logic is dead, instinct burns,Alone in the storm, nowhere to turn.(silence)Too late now, I saw the void,Ghost hours, bloody noise.Dropping the keys, I’m already gone,My last commit—pushed at dawn.
I think this is it, I'm closing the book,Too many lines of code, too many hours I took.I ain't no boss, just a face in the crowd,A cog in the gears, screaming out loud.🔥 I tried to build, but I lost my way!🔥 Tried to lead, but I went astray!Drowned in logs, chasing ghosts,Trapped in a loop, a digital hoax.The logic is dead, instinct burns,Alone in the storm, nowhere to turn.(silence)Too late now, I saw the void,Ghost hours, bloody noise.Dropping the keys, I’m already gone,My last commit—pushed at dawn.
I think this is it, I'm closing the book,Too many lines of code, too many hours I took.I ain't no boss, just a face in the crowd,A cog in the gears, screaming out loud.🔥 I tried to build, but I lost my way!🔥 Tried to lead, but I went astray!Drowned in logs, chasing ghosts,Trapped in a loop, a digital hoax.The logic is dead, instinct burns,Alone in the storm, nowhere to turn.(silence)Too late now, I saw the void,Ghost hours, bloody noise.Dropping the keys, I’m already gone,My last commit—pushed at dawn.
I think this is it, I'm closing the book,Too many lines of code, too many hours I took.I ain't no boss, just a face in the crowd,A cog in the gears, screaming out loud.🔥 I tried to build, but I lost my way!🔥 Tried to lead, but I went astray!Drowned in logs, chasing ghosts,Trapped in a loop, a digital hoax.The logic is dead, instinct burns,Alone in the storm, nowhere to turn.(silence)Too late now, I saw the void,Ghost hours, bloody noise.Dropping the keys, I’m already gone,My last commit—pushed at dawn.
I think this is it, I'm closing the book,Too many lines of code, too many hours I took.I ain't no boss, just a face in the crowd,A cog in the gears, screaming out loud.🔥 I tried to build, but I lost my way!🔥 Tried to lead, but I went astray!Drowned in logs, chasing ghosts,Trapped in a loop, a digital hoax.The logic is dead, instinct burns,Alone in the storm, nowhere to turn.(silence)Too late now, I saw the void,Ghost hours, bloody noise.Dropping the keys, I’m already gone,My last commit—pushed at dawn.
I think this is it, I'm closing the book,Too many lines of code, too many hours I took.I ain't no boss, just a face in the crowd,A cog in the gears, screaming out loud.🔥 I tried to build, but I lost my way!🔥 Tried to lead, but I went astray!Drowned in logs, chasing ghosts,Trapped in a loop, a digital hoax.The logic is dead, instinct burns,Alone in the storm, nowhere to turn.(silence)Too late now, I saw the void,Ghost hours, bloody noise.Dropping the keys, I’m already gone,My last commit—pushed at dawn.
Karma, je te tisse, fil d’or, fil de soie,Chaque geste, chaque pensée, renforce ma voie.Dans la lumière, je me tiens,Le calme en moi, la paix dans mes mains.
Fake prophets in code, priests of the stream,A global cathedral where memes replace dreams.You’re wired, you’re tired, you’re part of the grid,Freedom’s a relic the network forbid.
Fake prophets in code, priests of the stream,A global cathedral where memes replace dreams.You’re wired, you’re tired, you’re part of the grid,Freedom’s a relic the network forbid.
Fake prophets in code, priests of the stream,A global cathedral where memes replace dreams.You’re wired, you’re tired, you’re part of the grid,Freedom’s a relic the network forbid.
Fake prophets in code, priests of the stream,A global cathedral where memes replace dreams.You’re wired, you’re tired, you’re part of the grid,Freedom’s a relic the network forbid.
Fake prophets in code, priests of the stream,A global cathedral where memes replace dreams.You’re wired, you’re tired, you’re part of the grid,Freedom’s a relic the network forbid.
(verse)Thirteen long years beneath your somber skies,Brittany, you cruel land of whispered lies.I walked your shores, I braved your bitter rain,Yet found no solace, only endless pain.(verse)One fateful night, your darkness tore my womb,An act of rage, a child lost to the gloom.Your winds carried screams, but no one replied,And in your silence, even hope had died.(verse)A gang descended, wild and filled with spite,A shattered bottle glinting in the night.They tore my scalp, their laughter ringing loud,And left me bleeding, broken, disavowed.(verse)The fire followed, consuming all I owned,Its hungry flames devoured dreams I’d honed.Homeless, hollow, I begged for bread to eat,And learned despair beneath the city's feet.(verse)I built again, with trembling hands, my fate,A fragile peace that envy soon would take.The wolves of contracts, landlords with no soul,Stripped me bare, and left a gaping hole.(chorus)Oh, Brittany, harsh land of bitter embrace,Your beauty’s a veil for a merciless face.For the kind-hearted, you’re a wicked snare,A trap of storms, a realm of cold despair.(bridge)So I bid you goodbye; my heart seeks the sun,A place where love blooms, and battles are won.The world is wide, and I’ll find my own way,Beyond your shadows, into brighter days.(chorus)Farewell, Brittany, your memory will fade,My scars are my anthem, my soul unafraid.I’ll wear my wounds as proof I have survived,And in new horizons, I’ll finally thrive.
(verse)Thirteen long years beneath your somber skies,Brittany, you cruel land of whispered lies.I walked your shores, I braved your bitter rain,Yet found no solace, only endless pain.(verse)One fateful night, your darkness tore my womb,An act of rage, a child lost to the gloom.Your winds carried screams, but no one replied,And in your silence, even hope had died.(verse)A gang descended, wild and filled with spite,A shattered bottle glinting in the night.They tore my scalp, their laughter ringing loud,And left me bleeding, broken, disavowed.(verse)The fire followed, consuming all I owned,Its hungry flames devoured dreams I’d honed.Homeless, hollow, I begged for bread to eat,And learned despair beneath the city's feet.(verse)I built again, with trembling hands, my fate,A fragile peace that envy soon would take.The wolves of contracts, landlords with no soul,Stripped me bare, and left a gaping hole.(chorus)Oh, Brittany, harsh land of bitter embrace,Your beauty’s a veil for a merciless face.For the kind-hearted, you’re a wicked snare,A trap of storms, a realm of cold despair.(bridge)So I bid you goodbye; my heart seeks the sun,A place where love blooms, and battles are won.The world is wide, and I’ll find my own way,Beyond your shadows, into brighter days.(chorus)Farewell, Brittany, your memory will fade,My scars are my anthem, my soul unafraid.I’ll wear my wounds as proof I have survived,And in new horizons, I’ll finally thrive.
(verse)Thirteen long years beneath your somber skies,Brittany, you cruel land of whispered lies.I walked your shores, I braved your bitter rain,Yet found no solace, only endless pain.(verse)One fateful night, your darkness tore my womb,An act of rage, a child lost to the gloom.Your winds carried screams, but no one replied,And in your silence, even hope had died.(verse)A gang descended, wild and filled with spite,A shattered bottle glinting in the night.They tore my scalp, their laughter ringing loud,And left me bleeding, broken, disavowed.(verse)The fire followed, consuming all I owned,Its hungry flames devoured dreams I’d honed.Homeless, hollow, I begged for bread to eat,And learned despair beneath the city's feet.(verse)I built again, with trembling hands, my fate,A fragile peace that envy soon would take.The wolves of contracts, landlords with no soul,Stripped me bare, and left a gaping hole.(chorus)Oh, Brittany, harsh land of bitter embrace,Your beauty’s a veil for a merciless face.For the kind-hearted, you’re a wicked snare,A trap of storms, a realm of cold despair.(bridge)So I bid you goodbye; my heart seeks the sun,A place where love blooms, and battles are won.The world is wide, and I’ll find my own way,Beyond your shadows, into brighter days.(chorus)Farewell, Brittany, your memory will fade,My scars are my anthem, my soul unafraid.I’ll wear my wounds as proof I have survived,And in new horizons, I’ll finally thrive.
(verse)Thirteen long years beneath your somber skies,Brittany, you cruel land of whispered lies.I walked your shores, I braved your bitter rain,Yet found no solace, only endless pain.(verse)One fateful night, your darkness tore my womb,An act of rage, a child lost to the gloom.Your winds carried screams, but no one replied,And in your silence, even hope had died.(verse)A gang descended, wild and filled with spite,A shattered bottle glinting in the night.They tore my scalp, their laughter ringing loud,And left me bleeding, broken, disavowed.(verse)The fire followed, consuming all I owned,Its hungry flames devoured dreams I’d honed.Homeless, hollow, I begged for bread to eat,And learned despair beneath the city's feet.(verse)I built again, with trembling hands, my fate,A fragile peace that envy soon would take.The wolves of contracts, landlords with no soul,Stripped me bare, and left a gaping hole.(chorus)Oh, Brittany, harsh land of bitter embrace,Your beauty’s a veil for a merciless face.For the kind-hearted, you’re a wicked snare,A trap of storms, a realm of cold despair.(bridge)So I bid you goodbye; my heart seeks the sun,A place where love blooms, and battles are won.The world is wide, and I’ll find my own way,Beyond your shadows, into brighter days.(chorus)Farewell, Brittany, your memory will fade,My scars are my anthem, my soul unafraid.I’ll wear my wounds as proof I have survived,And in new horizons, I’ll finally thrive.
(verse)Thirteen long years beneath your somber skies,Brittany, you cruel land of whispered lies.I walked your shores, I braved your bitter rain,Yet found no solace, only endless pain.(verse)One fateful night, your darkness tore my womb,An act of rage, a child lost to the gloom.Your winds carried screams, but no one replied,And in your silence, even hope had died.(verse)A gang descended, wild and filled with spite,A shattered bottle glinting in the night.They tore my scalp, their laughter ringing loud,And left me bleeding, broken, disavowed.(verse)The fire followed, consuming all I owned,Its hungry flames devoured dreams I’d honed.Homeless, hollow, I begged for bread to eat,And learned despair beneath the city's feet.(verse)I built again, with trembling hands, my fate,A fragile peace that envy soon would take.The wolves of contracts, landlords with no soul,Stripped me bare, and left a gaping hole.(chorus)Oh, Brittany, harsh land of bitter embrace,Your beauty’s a veil for a merciless face.For the kind-hearted, you’re a wicked snare,A trap of storms, a realm of cold despair.(bridge)So I bid you goodbye; my heart seeks the sun,A place where love blooms, and battles are won.The world is wide, and I’ll find my own way,Beyond your shadows, into brighter days.(chorus)Farewell, Brittany, your memory will fade,My scars are my anthem, my soul unafraid.I’ll wear my wounds as proof I have survived,And in new horizons, I’ll finally thrive.
Les communistes l'appellent la solidarité.Les humanistes l'appellent l'empathie.Les anarchistes l'appellent l'entraide.Les musulmans l'appellent la zakâte.Les juifs l'appellent la tzédaka.Les bouddhistes l'appellent la compassion.Les chrétiens l'appellent la charité.Les socialistes l'appellent la justice sociale.Les indigénistes l'appellent le partage communautaire.Les philanthropes l'appellent l'altruisme.Les écologistes l'appellent la responsabilité collective.Les féministes l'appellent la sororité.Les stoïciens l'appellent la bienveillance.En bref, ne pense pas qu'à toi
cathartic 2024 nervous breakdownreprise d'un vieux gimmick de gratteux :https://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/tang?in=clhmusic/sets/playground
(verse)Don’t speak, just do it, walk straight, make it clean,Promises are chains, but actions cut the scene.Silence is a weapon, words are just a bluff,Let them chase the noise, I’m the one who does enough.(chorus)I announce nothing, I do it all, I hit hard, I stand tall,No speeches, only proof, watch me now, that’s the truth.I announce nothing, I do it all, my own rules, my own call,No promises, only grit, step with me or that’s it.(verse)Words fade in the wind, actions carve the stone,In the dance of silence, I hold the throne.No need for banners, no trumpets in the air,Each move shakes the ground, each step declares.(chorus)I announce nothing, I do it all, I hit hard, I stand tall,No speeches, only proof, watch me now, that’s the truth.I announce nothing, I do it all, my own rules, my own call,No promises, only grit, step with me or that’s it.(verse)The echo of promises, dust in the sky,Actions are the bricks that build what won’t die.You want to follow? Then watch what I do,But never ask me what’s coming for you.(outro)I announce nothing, I do it all,The world is watching, I won’t fall.I move alone, that’s my vow,See my acts, they speak loud now.
feat. @shaivoice...I announce nothing, I do it all,The world is watching, I won’t fall.I move alone, that’s my vow,See my acts, they speak loud now.
(verse)Don’t speak, just do it, walk straight, make it clean,Promises are chains, but actions cut the scene.Silence is a weapon, words are just a bluff,Let them chase the noise, I’m the one who does enough.(chorus)I announce nothing, I do it all, I hit hard, I stand tall,No speeches, only proof, watch me now, that’s the truth.I announce nothing, I do it all, my own rules, my own call,No promises, only grit, step with me or that’s it.(verse)Words fade in the wind, actions carve the stone,In the dance of silence, I hold the throne.No need for banners, no trumpets in the air,Each move shakes the ground, each step declares.(chorus)I announce nothing, I do it all, I hit hard, I stand tall,No speeches, only proof, watch me now, that’s the truth.I announce nothing, I do it all, my own rules, my own call,No promises, only grit, step with me or that’s it.(verse)The echo of promises, dust in the sky,Actions are the bricks that build what won’t die.You want to follow? Then watch what I do,But never ask me what’s coming for you.(outro)I announce nothing, I do it all,The world is watching, I won’t fall.I move alone, that’s my vow,See my acts, they speak loud now.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Skip the pills, skip the lies,Your health is rotting in disguise.What’s on your plate is what you are,Not a lab, but a garden will take you far.Sugar traps and greasy chains,Fake food fuels real-life pains.Listen up, it’s not a game,Your fork decides if you’re to blame.(Chorus)Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.From the ground to your veins, let life endure,Eat to heal, be sharp, be sure.Throw the junk into the fire,Burn the myths, light the pyre.Superfoods don’t need a label,Just eat real, ditch the fable.Carrots crunch, garlic fights,Seeds hold truth, herbs ignite.Medicine grows in plain sight,But are you brave enough to bite?(Chorus)Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.From the ground to your veins, let life endure,Eat to heal, be sharp, be sure.Big Pharma loves your trust,Your ignorance feeds their lust.But the power lies in what you chew,The revolution starts with you.Your body’s not a trash can, friend,Don’t feed it death, expecting to mend.The soil gives life, don’t let it rot,Your survival’s in every crop you’ve got.(Final Chorus)Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.(Outro)The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Another Audacity+AI playground---Let your food be your only cure,Each bite clean, each choice pure.Stop the poison, keep it raw,Heal your body, respect the law.The truth is simple, raw, and plain,Food is life; pills are pain.Take back control, make it secure,Let your food be your only cure.
Let 'em automate it all, fire us one by one,But when it’s time to share, we’ll take what’s ours
(Verse 1)Bobbies on the beat want new eyes in the sky,A drone in the distance, unseen by the eye,No more the clatter of the chopper's roar,Silent wings hover above the law’s door.Remote control from a distant seat,Uncrewed birds patrol the concrete,The future’s here, it’s fast and light,The law moves now beyond the line of sight.(Chorus)Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Steel birds above, they glide and slide.A shadow in the blue, the future is nigh,The drones are coming to watch from the sky.(Verse 2)Commissioners cheer, helicopters sigh,They’ll be grounded soon as the tech learns to fly."Agile and quick, they’ll beat the crime,"Jones declares, "It's about time!"From the Orkneys down to the city sprawl,Unseen watchers answering the call,Amazon drones, delivering dreams,While law enforcement shifts to silent schemes.(Chorus)Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Steel birds above, they glide and slide.A shadow in the blue, the future is nigh,The drones are coming to watch from the sky.(Bridge)The regulators nod, a “significant step,”To make skies safer while secrets are kept.Is this the future or just the plan?Will these machines serve or trap the man?As Spidey would rant, with furious might,Who watches the watchers that hide from sight?But progress rolls on, relentless, bold,And the future’s not waiting to be controlled.(Chorus)Eyes in the sky, no place to hide,Steel birds above, they glide and slide.A shadow in the blue, the future is nigh,The drones are coming to watch from the sky.(Outro)So here we stand, on the edge of the new,With tech that’s watching, but what do we do?Eyes in the sky, they’ll never blink,The future’s arrived—take a breath, and think.
(Chorus)🎵 In a world where cash rules and hearts get sold,Let’s reclaim our souls, let’s be bold.Forget the pain, leave the king behind,We may have just one life, but we’ll live it right. 🎵
(Chorus)🎵 In a world where cash rules and hearts get sold,Let’s reclaim our souls, let’s be bold.Forget the pain, leave the king behind,We may have just one life, but we’ll live it right. 🎵
(Chorus)🎵 In a world where cash rules and hearts get sold,Let’s reclaim our souls, let’s be bold.Forget the pain, leave the king behind,We may have just one life, but we’ll live it right. 🎵
(Chorus)🎵 In a world where cash rules and hearts get sold,Let’s reclaim our souls, let’s be bold.Forget the pain, leave the king behind,We may have just one life, but we’ll live it right. 🎵
Let 'em automate it all, fire us one by one,But when it’s time to share, we’ll take what’s ours
Let 'em automate it all, fire us one by one,But when it’s time to share, we’ll take what’s ours
(Chorus)🎵 In a world where cash rules and hearts get sold,Let’s reclaim our souls, let’s be bold.Forget the pain, leave the king behind,We may have just one life, but we’ll live it right. 🎵
(Chorus)🎵 In a world where cash rules and hearts get sold,Let’s reclaim our souls, let’s be bold.Forget the pain, leave the king behind,We may have just one life, but we’ll live it right. 🎵
(Chorus)🎵 In a world where cash rules and hearts get sold,Let’s reclaim our souls, let’s be bold.Forget the pain, leave the king behind,We may have just one life, but we’ll live it right. 🎵
(Chorus)🎵 In a world where cash rules and hearts get sold,Let’s reclaim our souls, let’s be bold.Forget the pain, leave the king behind,We may have just one life, but we’ll live it right. 🎵
(verse)I woke up again, with nothin’ in my hand,Just the weight of this world, doin’ all it can.Kids asleep upstairs, dreams soft and light,But I’m down in this darkness, fightin’ through the night.(chorus)Oh Lord, I’m the broke man standin’,Shoulders heavy, heart demandin’.Ain’t no money, but I keep on tryin’,‘Cause this family needs me, though inside I’m dyin’.(verse)Hands are raw, these bones been bent,Every dime I make, every cent been spent.Clock’s tickin’ loud, it mocks my pain,But I put my head down and I work again.(chorus)Oh Lord, I’m the broke man standin’,Dreams faded, doubts expandin’.Ain’t no riches, just these bills demandin’,Still I’m fightin’ for them, though my soul is strandin’.(bridge)They don’t see the tears I hide,Behind this pride, I push aside.Every step I take, feels like quicksand,But I carry them all, on this weary man’s land.(verse)The sun will rise, and I’ll rise too,Ain’t no choice when they’re countin’ on you.But I pray one day, when I’m finally through,They’ll know all I gave, was all for you.(final)Oh Lord, I’m the broke man standin’,Faith shakin’, but I’m still commandin’.Ain’t no glory, in this life demandin’,But I keep on walkin’, for the love I’m handin’.(outro)
A dialogue between our music and back vocals and AI for the lead vocals---[Verse 1]Through a housefire's blaze, we stood tall,Banks fell twice, but we didn't fall.With debts and a handicap too,We rose from the ashes, starting anew.[Chorus]We're not dead, we're alive,Against the odds, we thrive.School and work, we make it right,Sedentary nomads, winning the fight.[Verse 2]Every two years, a new place to roam,Building our family, making it home.In every corner of this big, wide world,Our banner of triumph is unfurled.[Chorus]We're not dead, we're alive,Against the odds, we thrive.School and work, we make it right,Sedentary nomads, winning the fight.[Bridge]Black storms can't break our stride,Together, we're a powerful tide.In chaos, we find our song,Together, we belong.[Chorus]We're not dead, we're alive,Against the odds, we thrive.School and work, we make it right,Sedentary nomads, winning the fight.[Outro]Housefires, banks, and debts can't bind,Our spirit's free, our will won't unwind.From ashes to triumph, our path is set,We're not dead, don't you forget!
Une autre façon de partager les paroles du morceau libre d'un groupe d'anthologie, originale ici : https://lesvieillessalopes.com/mp3/Aime-moi%20tendre%20Aime-moi%20vrai/Les%20Vieilles%20Salopes%20-%2014%20-%20Mort%20a%20la%20guerre.mp3
Une autre façon de partager les paroles du morceau libre d'un groupe d'anthologie, originale ici : https://lesvieillessalopes.com/mp3/Aime-moi%20tendre%20Aime-moi%20vrai/Les%20Vieilles%20Salopes%20-%2014%20-%20Mort%20a%20la%20guerre.mp3
Une autre façon de partager les paroles du morceau libre d'un groupe d'anthologie, originale ici : https://lesvieillessalopes.com/mp3/Aime-moi%20tendre%20Aime-moi%20vrai/Les%20Vieilles%20Salopes%20-%2014%20-%20Mort%20a%20la%20guerre.mp3
Le texte original de Boris Vian, avant l'allégement souhaité par Mouloudji.Les puissants n'ont jamais été aussi ivres de leur suffisance.Et les temps demandent une motivation forte.Leur guerre n'aura pas lieu.
Le texte original de Boris Vian, avant l'allégement souhaité par Mouloudji.Les puissants n'ont jamais été aussi ivres de leur suffisance.Et les temps demandent une motivation forte.Leur guerre n'aura pas lieu.
AI experiment, Suno + Audacity---(verse)In the shadow of crowns, we've grown,Watching stars, dreaming of noon's glow.Kings in their ivory towers, so out of touch,We dance on their heads, free and untouched.(brige)Each step on the pavement, our declaration,Breaking their rules, our own revolution.Gone are the chains of yesterday, taking flight,On thrones' debris, we learn tonight.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.(verse)They call it order, we see the mess,In their hollow promises, we seek redress.But today, we take the reins, no plea,Crowns fallen, the future’s ours to be.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.
AI experiment, Suno + Audacity---(verse)In the shadow of crowns, we've grown,Watching stars, dreaming of noon's glow.Kings in their ivory towers, so out of touch,We dance on their heads, free and untouched.(brige)Each step on the pavement, our declaration,Breaking their rules, our own revolution.Gone are the chains of yesterday, taking flight,On thrones' debris, we learn tonight.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.(verse)They call it order, we see the mess,In their hollow promises, we seek redress.But today, we take the reins, no plea,Crowns fallen, the future’s ours to be.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.
AI experiment, Suno + Audacity---(verse)In the shadow of crowns, we've grown,Watching stars, dreaming of noon's glow.Kings in their ivory towers, so out of touch,We dance on their heads, free and untouched.(brige)Each step on the pavement, our declaration,Breaking their rules, our own revolution.Gone are the chains of yesterday, taking flight,On thrones' debris, we learn tonight.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.(verse)They call it order, we see the mess,In their hollow promises, we seek redress.But today, we take the reins, no plea,Crowns fallen, the future’s ours to be.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.
AI experiment, Suno + Audacity---(verse)In the shadow of crowns, we've grown,Watching stars, dreaming of noon's glow.Kings in their ivory towers, so out of touch,We dance on their heads, free and untouched.(brige)Each step on the pavement, our declaration,Breaking their rules, our own revolution.Gone are the chains of yesterday, taking flight,On thrones' debris, we learn tonight.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.(verse)They call it order, we see the mess,In their hollow promises, we seek redress.But today, we take the reins, no plea,Crowns fallen, the future’s ours to be.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.
AI experiment, Suno + Audacity---(verse)In the shadow of crowns, we've grown,Watching stars, dreaming of noon's glow.Kings in their ivory towers, so out of touch,We dance on their heads, free and untouched.(brige)Each step on the pavement, our declaration,Breaking their rules, our own revolution.Gone are the chains of yesterday, taking flight,On thrones' debris, we learn tonight.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.(verse)They call it order, we see the mess,In their hollow promises, we seek redress.But today, we take the reins, no plea,Crowns fallen, the future’s ours to be.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.
AI experiment, Suno + Audacity---(verse)In the shadow of crowns, we've grown,Watching stars, dreaming of noon's glow.Kings in their ivory towers, so out of touch,We dance on their heads, free and untouched.(brige)Each step on the pavement, our declaration,Breaking their rules, our own revolution.Gone are the chains of yesterday, taking flight,On thrones' debris, we learn tonight.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.(verse)They call it order, we see the mess,In their hollow promises, we seek redress.But today, we take the reins, no plea,Crowns fallen, the future’s ours to be.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.
AI experiment, Suno + Audacity---(verse)In the shadow of crowns, we've grown,Watching stars, dreaming of noon's glow.Kings in their ivory towers, so out of touch,We dance on their heads, free and untouched.(brige)Each step on the pavement, our declaration,Breaking their rules, our own revolution.Gone are the chains of yesterday, taking flight,On thrones' debris, we learn tonight.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.(verse)They call it order, we see the mess,In their hollow promises, we seek redress.But today, we take the reins, no plea,Crowns fallen, the future’s ours to be.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.
AI experiment, Suno + Audacity---(verse)In the shadow of crowns, we've grown,Watching stars, dreaming of noon's glow.Kings in their ivory towers, so out of touch,We dance on their heads, free and untouched.(brige)Each step on the pavement, our declaration,Breaking their rules, our own revolution.Gone are the chains of yesterday, taking flight,On thrones' debris, we learn tonight.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.(verse)They call it order, we see the mess,In their hollow promises, we seek redress.But today, we take the reins, no plea,Crowns fallen, the future’s ours to be.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.
Le texte original de Boris Vian, avant l'allégement souhaité par Mouloudji.Les puissants n'ont jamais été aussi ivres de leur suffisance.Et les temps demandent une motivation forte.Leur guerre n'aura pas lieu.
Le texte original de Boris Vian, avant l'allégement souhaité par Mouloudji.Les puissants n'ont jamais été aussi ivres de leur suffisance.Et les temps demandent une motivation forte.Leur guerre n'aura pas lieu.
Le texte original de Boris Vian, avant l'allégement souhaité par Mouloudji.Les puissants n'ont jamais été aussi ivres de leur suffisance.Et les temps demandent une motivation forte.Leur guerre n'aura pas lieu.
To know more about this:www.972mag.com/lavender-ai-israeli-army-gaza/Just another case, it's everywhere:www.stopkillerrobots.org/🙄
"With My Tribe" is about the strength that comes from those around us. It’s a song about fighting against yourself, against your own fears, but with the support of the people who matter. The tribe is those who understand you, who lift you up when you fall.--- LyricsVerse 1I’ve been running from shadows, lost inside,Building walls I thought would keep me safe inside.But then I hear my people calling me back,With open arms, they show me what I lack.ChorusThe only thing standing in my way is me,But I’m not alone—I’ve got my tribe with me.They’re lifting me up, showing me the way,Helping me break these chains I’ve made.I’m learning to see,With my tribe beside me, I’m free.Verse 2They see my scars, they know my fear,But in their strength, my path gets clear.When I fall, they pick me up again,A circle of love that never ends.ChorusThe only thing standing in my way is me,But together we’re stronger, my tribe and me.They give me courage, they help me believe,Remind me of all that I can achieve.I’m learning to see,With my tribe beside me, I’m free.BridgeIn their eyes, I see my strength,In their hands, I find my faith.With every step, they walk with me,Guiding me toward who I’m meant to be.OutroSo I’ll face myself, with my tribe by my side,Knowing I’m held, I’ve got nothing to hide.Together we rise, together we see,The only thing stopping me… was me.
"With My Tribe" is about the strength that comes from those around us. It’s a song about fighting against yourself, against your own fears, but with the support of the people who matter. The tribe is those who understand you, who lift you up when you fall.--- LyricsVerse 1I’ve been running from shadows, lost inside,Building walls I thought would keep me safe inside.But then I hear my people calling me back,With open arms, they show me what I lack.ChorusThe only thing standing in my way is me,But I’m not alone—I’ve got my tribe with me.They’re lifting me up, showing me the way,Helping me break these chains I’ve made.I’m learning to see,With my tribe beside me, I’m free.Verse 2They see my scars, they know my fear,But in their strength, my path gets clear.When I fall, they pick me up again,A circle of love that never ends.ChorusThe only thing standing in my way is me,But together we’re stronger, my tribe and me.They give me courage, they help me believe,Remind me of all that I can achieve.I’m learning to see,With my tribe beside me, I’m free.BridgeIn their eyes, I see my strength,In their hands, I find my faith.With every step, they walk with me,Guiding me toward who I’m meant to be.OutroSo I’ll face myself, with my tribe by my side,Knowing I’m held, I’ve got nothing to hide.Together we rise, together we see,The only thing stopping me… was me.
Uma jornada visceral de resistência e solidariedade. Vozes do passado ecoam nas ruas escuras e nos sonhos quebrados. A voz da jovem, feroz e intensa, homenageia os que lutaram e ainda lutam. O ritmo é fogo e cinzas, despertando um senso de desafio que emerge do silêncio. É um hino de força, dançando entre o desespero e a esperança, chamando todos a um ritmo compartilhado de sobrevivência e renascimento.---[Verso 1]Fuzilados, famintos, vozes do passadoMarcham em nós, o tempo caladoNada mudou, tudo ressoaA dor da vida, a luta ecoa[Refrão]Ruas escuras, brilhos quebradosSonhos despedaçados, falam caladosSussurros antigos, gritos de igualdadesDo fundo da alma, a chama arde[Verso 2]Paredes que oprimem, punhos erguidosNada se perde, tudo é pedidoA chama vive, a luta reacendeNesse fogo, o futuro se entende[Ponte]Das cinzas, nasce um horizonte abertoFogo de esperança, pontes no desertoO amanhã se desenha sem fimNo reflexo das nossas mãos, enfim[Refrão]Ruas escuras, brilhos quebradosSonhos despedaçados, falam caladosSussurros antigos, gritos de igualdadesDo fundo da alma, a chama arde
"With My Tribe" is about the strength that comes from those around us. It’s a song about fighting against yourself, against your own fears, but with the support of the people who matter. The tribe is those who understand you, who lift you up when you fall.--- LyricsVerse 1I’ve been running from shadows, lost inside,Building walls I thought would keep me safe inside.But then I hear my people calling me back,With open arms, they show me what I lack.ChorusThe only thing standing in my way is me,But I’m not alone—I’ve got my tribe with me.They’re lifting me up, showing me the way,Helping me break these chains I’ve made.I’m learning to see,With my tribe beside me, I’m free.Verse 2They see my scars, they know my fear,But in their strength, my path gets clear.When I fall, they pick me up again,A circle of love that never ends.ChorusThe only thing standing in my way is me,But together we’re stronger, my tribe and me.They give me courage, they help me believe,Remind me of all that I can achieve.I’m learning to see,With my tribe beside me, I’m free.BridgeIn their eyes, I see my strength,In their hands, I find my faith.With every step, they walk with me,Guiding me toward who I’m meant to be.OutroSo I’ll face myself, with my tribe by my side,Knowing I’m held, I’ve got nothing to hide.Together we rise, together we see,The only thing stopping me… was me.
"With My Tribe" is about the strength that comes from those around us. It’s a song about fighting against yourself, against your own fears, but with the support of the people who matter. The tribe is those who understand you, who lift you up when you fall.--- LyricsVerse 1I’ve been running from shadows, lost inside,Building walls I thought would keep me safe inside.But then I hear my people calling me back,With open arms, they show me what I lack.ChorusThe only thing standing in my way is me,But I’m not alone—I’ve got my tribe with me.They’re lifting me up, showing me the way,Helping me break these chains I’ve made.I’m learning to see,With my tribe beside me, I’m free.Verse 2They see my scars, they know my fear,But in their strength, my path gets clear.When I fall, they pick me up again,A circle of love that never ends.ChorusThe only thing standing in my way is me,But together we’re stronger, my tribe and me.They give me courage, they help me believe,Remind me of all that I can achieve.I’m learning to see,With my tribe beside me, I’m free.BridgeIn their eyes, I see my strength,In their hands, I find my faith.With every step, they walk with me,Guiding me toward who I’m meant to be.OutroSo I’ll face myself, with my tribe by my side,Knowing I’m held, I’ve got nothing to hide.Together we rise, together we see,The only thing stopping me… was me.
"Les Échos du Passé" est une chanson de lutte et de résilience. Elle raconte la marche de ceux qui portent le poids du passé, qui affrontent les murs et les géants glacés. C'est l’histoire des rêves brisés, de la rage qui se transforme en souffle de vie, de la quête d'égalité.
Un hommage / exercice de style pour partager le message en douceurEcoutez la seule la vraie : https://soundcloud.com/kenyarkana/anomalie-avant-lexode-4
To know more about this:www.972mag.com/lavender-ai-israeli-army-gaza/Just another case, it's everywhere:www.stopkillerrobots.org/🙄
To know more about this:www.972mag.com/lavender-ai-israeli-army-gaza/Just another case, it's everywhere:www.stopkillerrobots.org/🙄
To know more about this:www.972mag.com/lavender-ai-israeli-army-gaza/Just another case, it's everywhere:www.stopkillerrobots.org/🙄
To know more about this:www.972mag.com/lavender-ai-israeli-army-gaza/Just another case, it's everywhere:www.stopkillerrobots.org/🙄
To know more about this:www.972mag.com/lavender-ai-israeli-army-gaza/Just another case, it's everywhere:www.stopkillerrobots.org/🙄
To know more about this:www.972mag.com/lavender-ai-israeli-army-gaza/Just another case, it's everywhere:www.stopkillerrobots.org/🙄
To know more about this:www.972mag.com/lavender-ai-israeli-army-gaza/Just another case, it's everywhere:www.stopkillerrobots.org/🙄
"Germofóbico" é uma música intensa e sarcástica sobre os extremos da hipocondria e o medo obsessivo de contaminação durante a quarentena.
Revisite #smooth du classique https://soundcloud.com/kenyarkana/anomalie-avant-lexode-4
"Renascimento em Movimento" é uma canção que conta a história de uma transformação profunda, marcada pela luta para abandonar 20 anos de hábitos prejudiciais. O protagonista decide deixar para trás o excesso de café e o consumo de tabacos, embarcando numa jornada de renovação ao se tornar nómada digital.
"Renascimento em Movimento" é uma canção que conta a história de uma transformação profunda, marcada pela luta para abandonar 20 anos de hábitos prejudiciais. O protagonista decide deixar para trás o excesso de café e o consumo de tabaco, embarcando numa jornada de renovação ao se tornar nómada digital.
"Renascimento em Movimento" é uma canção que conta a história de uma transformação profunda, marcada pela luta para abandonar 20 anos de hábitos prejudiciais. O protagonista decide deixar para trás o excesso de café e o consumo de tabaco, embarcando numa jornada de renovação ao se tornar nómada digital.
"Renascimento em Movimento" é uma canção que conta a história de uma transformação profunda, marcada pela luta para abandonar 20 anos de hábitos prejudiciais. O protagonista decide deixar para trás o excesso de café e o consumo de tabaco, embarcando numa jornada de renovação ao se tornar nómada digital.
"Renascimento em Movimento" é uma canção que conta a história de uma transformação profunda, marcada pela luta para abandonar 20 anos de hábitos prejudiciais. O protagonista decide deixar para trás o excesso de café e o consumo de substâncias, embarcando numa jornada de renovação ao se tornar nómada digital.
"Renascimento em Movimento" é uma canção que conta a história de uma transformação profunda, marcada pela luta para abandonar 20 anos de hábitos prejudiciais. O protagonista decide deixar para trás o excesso de café e o consumo de tabaco, embarcando numa jornada de renovação ao se tornar nómada digital.
"Renascimento em Movimento" é uma canção que conta a história de uma transformação profunda, marcada pela luta para abandonar 20 anos de hábitos prejudiciais. O protagonista decide deixar para trás o excesso de café e o consumo de tabacos, embarcando numa jornada de renovação ao se tornar nómada digital.
Variation IA autour du texte immortalisé par Jean Gabin, dont l'auteur originel est Jean-Loup Dabadie, lui-même adaptant un morceau original de Philip Green
Alla scoperta di un magnifico angolo d'Italia, una piccola intelligenza artificiale per contribuire a dedicargli un'ode.
- נקשיב, נחשוב ונפעל יחד למען עתיד ללא מלחמה.- لنستمع، ونتأمل، ونعمل معًا من أجل مستقبل بلا حرب.- Écoutons, réfléchissons et œuvrons ensemble pour un avenir sans guerre.- Listen, reflect, and work together for a future without war.- Слухаймо, розмірковуймо і працюймо разом заради майбутнього без війни.- Слушаем, размышляем и работаем вместе ради будущего без войны.
- נקשיב, נחשוב ונפעל יחד למען עתיד ללא מלחמה.- لنستمع، ونتأمل، ونعمل معًا من أجل مستقبل بلا حرب.- Écoutons, réfléchissons et œuvrons ensemble pour un avenir sans guerre.- Listen, reflect, and work together for a future without war.- Слухаймо, розмірковуймо і працюймо разом заради майбутнього без війни.- Слушаем, размышляем и работаем вместе ради будущего без войны.
- נקשיב, נחשוב ונפעל יחד למען עתיד ללא מלחמה.- لنستمع، ونتأمل، ونعمل معًا من أجل مستقبل بلا حرب.- Écoutons, réfléchissons et œuvrons ensemble pour un avenir sans guerre.- Listen, reflect, and work together for a future without war.- Слухаймо, розмірковуймо і працюймо разом заради майбутнього без війни.- Слушаем, размышляем и работаем вместе ради будущего без войны.
- נקשיב, נחשוב ונפעל יחד למען עתיד ללא מלחמה.- لنستمع، ونتأمل، ونعمل معًا من أجل مستقبل بلا حرب.- Écoutons, réfléchissons et œuvrons ensemble pour un avenir sans guerre.- Listen, reflect, and work together for a future without war.- Слухаймо, розмірковуймо і працюймо разом заради майбутнього без війни.- Слушаем, размышляем и работаем вместе ради будущего без войны.
"Europe en Flammes" est un cri de désespoir et de révolte contre les ravages de la guerre en cours. Cette chanson dépeint un paysage sombre où la paix a cédé la place à la violence et à la destruction. Elle rappelle les conséquences dévastatrices des conflits sur les âmes et les rêves des innocents. "Europe en Flammes" est un appel universel à la cessation des hostilités et à la recherche d'une coexistence pacifique. Écoutons, réfléchissons et œuvrons ensemble pour un avenir sans guerre.
- נקשיב, נחשוב ונפעל יחד למען עתיד ללא מלחמה.- لنستمع، ونتأمل، ونعمل معًا من أجل مستقبل بلا حرب.- Écoutons, réfléchissons et œuvrons ensemble pour un avenir sans guerre.- Listen, reflect, and work together for a future without war.- Слухаймо, розмірковуймо і працюймо разом заради майбутнього без війни.- Слушаем, размышляем и работаем вместе ради будущего без войны.
(c) 2024 CLH---original (c) 2001 CLHrewritten for AI times---always busy, never aloneI should take the timeto strongly put off my shoesand to make this time minehow many years will i have to doall this stuff until i'll bethe calmest man you've ever seenthe calmest man i sure wanna beevery time in every placelonely thing i should dois to ask how to be replacedhurry up when i want to
(c) 2024 CLH---original (c) 2001 CLHrewritten for AI times---always busy, never aloneI should take the timeto strongly put off my shoesand to make this time minehow many years will i have to doall this stuff until i'll bethe calmest man you've ever seenthe calmest man i sure wanna beevery time in every placelonely thing i should dois to ask how to be replacedhurry up when i want to
Le loup moraliste (Voltaire)---Un loup, à ce que dit l’histoire,Voulut donner un jour des leçons à son fils,Et lui graver dans la mémoire,Pour être honnête loup, de beaux et bons avis.« Mon fils, lui disait-il, dans ce désert sauvage,A l’ombre des forêts vous passez vos jours ;Vous pourrez cependant avec de petits oursGoûter les doux plaisirs qu’on permet à votre âge.Contentez-vous du peu que j’amasse pour vous,Point de larcin : menez une innocente vie ;Point de mauvaise compagnie ;Choisissez pour amis les plus honnêtes loups ;Ne vous démentez point, soyez toujours le même ;Ne satisfaites point vos appétits gloutons :Mon fils, jeûnez plutôt l’avent et le carême,Que de sucer le sang des malheureux moutons ;Car enfin, quelle barbarie,Quels crimes ont commis ces innocents agneaux ?Au reste, vous savez qu’il y va de la vie :D’énormes chiens défendent les troupeaux.Hélas ! Je m’en souviens, un jour votre grand-pèrePour apaiser sa faim entra dans un hameau.Dès qu’on s’en aperçut : O bête carnassière !Au loup ! s’écria-t-on ; l’un s’arme d’un hoyau,L’autre prend une fourche ; et mon père eût beau faire,Hélas ! Il y laissa sa peau :De sa témérité ce fut le salaire.Sois sage à ses dépens, ne suis que la vertu,Et ne sois point battant, de peur d’être battu.Si tu m’aimes, déteste un crime que j’abhorre. »Le petit vit alors dans la gueule du loupDe la laine, et du sang qui dégouttait encore :Il se mit à rire à ce coup.« Comment, petit fripon, dit le loup en colère,Comment, vous riez des avisQue vous donne ici votre père ?Tu seras un vaurien, va, je te le prédis :Quoi ! Se moquer déjà d’un conseil salutaire ! »L’autre répondit en riant :« Votre exemple est un bon garant ;Mon père, je ferai ce que je vous vois faire. »Tel un prédicateur sortant d’un bon repasMonte dévotement en chaire,Et vient, bien fourré, gros et gras,Prêcher contre la bonne chère.
Hey, hey, listen up, it’s time to break the chain,We’re tearing down the money walls, we’re ripping out the pain,Every month we get a share, enough to stay alive,No more chasing dollar bills, it’s time to truly thrive.Transparency’s the name, no secrets left to hide,Our lives are free from hoarding, no stash to keep inside,We live for now, no future fear, the power’s in our hands,Invest in what we all believe, united we will stand.No more debt, no more greed,We’ve got what we need,Together we need, Together we rise, Together we fight,In this new world, we’ll make it right.Hey, hey, the system’s done, it’s breaking at the seams,We’re living for each other now, we’re chasing bigger dreams,From the ashes, we will rise, a new world we create,No more greed, no more lies, it’s time to liberate.No more debt, no more greed,We’ve got what we need,Together we need, Together we rise, Together we fight,In this new world, we’ll make it right.No more chains, no more fear,Our new world is finally here,Together we rise, together we fight,No cyberpunk delirium, just a revolution.
Combining an old text (c) 1998 CLHwith an old MIDI playground (c) 2019 CLHhttps://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/tina
Combining an old text (c) 1998 CLHwith an old MIDI playground (c) 2019 CLHhttps://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/tina
Combining an old text (c) 1998 CLHwith an old MIDI playground (c) 2019 CLHhttps://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/tina
Combining an old text (c) 1998 CLHwith an old MIDI playground (c) 2019 CLHhttps://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/tina
Combining an old text (c) 1998 CLHwith an old MIDI playground (c) 2019 CLHhttps://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/tina
Combining an old text (c) 1998 CLHwith an old MIDI playground (c) 2019 CLHhttps://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/tina
Combining an old text (c) 1998 CLHwith an old MIDI playground (c) 2019 CLHhttps://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/tina
Combining an old text (c) 1998 CLHwith an old MIDI playground (c) 2019 CLHhttps://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/tina
Combining an old text (c) 1998 CLHwith an old MIDI playground (c) 2019 CLHhttps://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/tina
Combining an old text (c) 1998 CLHwith an old MIDI playground (c) 2019 CLHhttps://soundcloud.com/clhmusic/tina
Le loup moraliste (Voltaire)---Un loup, à ce que dit l’histoire,Voulut donner un jour des leçons à son fils,Et lui graver dans la mémoire,Pour être honnête loup, de beaux et bons avis.« Mon fils, lui disait-il, dans ce désert sauvage,A l’ombre des forêts vous passez vos jours ;Vous pourrez cependant avec de petits oursGoûter les doux plaisirs qu’on permet à votre âge.Contentez-vous du peu que j’amasse pour vous,Point de larcin : menez une innocente vie ;Point de mauvaise compagnie ;Choisissez pour amis les plus honnêtes loups ;Ne vous démentez point, soyez toujours le même ;Ne satisfaites point vos appétits gloutons :Mon fils, jeûnez plutôt l’avent et le carême,Que de sucer le sang des malheureux moutons ;Car enfin, quelle barbarie,Quels crimes ont commis ces innocents agneaux ?Au reste, vous savez qu’il y va de la vie :D’énormes chiens défendent les troupeaux.Hélas ! Je m’en souviens, un jour votre grand-pèrePour apaiser sa faim entra dans un hameau.Dès qu’on s’en aperçut : O bête carnassière !Au loup ! s’écria-t-on ; l’un s’arme d’un hoyau,L’autre prend une fourche ; et mon père eût beau faire,Hélas ! Il y laissa sa peau :De sa témérité ce fut le salaire.Sois sage à ses dépens, ne suis que la vertu,Et ne sois point battant, de peur d’être battu.Si tu m’aimes, déteste un crime que j’abhorre. »Le petit vit alors dans la gueule du loupDe la laine, et du sang qui dégouttait encore :Il se mit à rire à ce coup.« Comment, petit fripon, dit le loup en colère,Comment, vous riez des avisQue vous donne ici votre père ?Tu seras un vaurien, va, je te le prédis :Quoi ! Se moquer déjà d’un conseil salutaire ! »L’autre répondit en riant :« Votre exemple est un bon garant ;Mon père, je ferai ce que je vous vois faire. »Tel un prédicateur sortant d’un bon repasMonte dévotement en chaire,Et vient, bien fourré, gros et gras,Prêcher contre la bonne chère.
Catharsis en courshttps://www.cairn.info/revue-les-cahiers-de-mediologie-1996-1-page-181.htm
To know more about this:https://www.972mag.com/lavender-ai-israeli-army-gaza/Just another case, it's everywhere:https://www.stopkillerrobots.org/🙄
Lyrics (c) 1996 CLHOriginal music (c) 1996 SOBLINDMusic experiments helped by Suno & Audacity---(verse)What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little world(verse)There's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another mole(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
Les communistes l'appellent la solidarité.Les humanistes l'appellent l'empathie.Les anarchistes l'appellent l'entraide.Les musulmans l'appellent la zakâte.Les juifs l'appellent la tzédaka.Les bouddhistes l'appellent la compassion.Les chrétiens l'appellent la charité.Les socialistes l'appellent la justice sociale.Les indigénistes l'appellent le partage communautaire.Les philanthropes l'appellent l'altruisme.Les écologistes l'appellent la responsabilité collective.Les féministes l'appellent la sororité.Les stoïciens l'appellent la bienveillance.En bref, ne pense pas qu'à toi
Les communistes l'appellent la solidarité.Les humanistes l'appellent l'empathie.Les anarchistes l'appellent l'entraide.Les musulmans l'appellent la zakâte.Les juifs l'appellent la tzédaka.Les bouddhistes l'appellent la compassion.Les chrétiens l'appellent la charité.Les socialistes l'appellent la justice sociale.Les indigénistes l'appellent le partage communautaire.Les philanthropes l'appellent l'altruisme.Les écologistes l'appellent la responsabilité collective.Les féministes l'appellent la sororité.Les stoïciens l'appellent la bienveillance.En bref, ne pense pas qu'à toi
Les communistes l'appellent la solidarité.Les humanistes l'appellent l'empathie.Les anarchistes l'appellent l'entraide.Les musulmans l'appellent la zakâte.Les juifs l'appellent la tzédaka.Les bouddhistes l'appellent la compassion.Les chrétiens l'appellent la charité.Les socialistes l'appellent la justice sociale.Les indigénistes l'appellent le partage communautaire.Les philanthropes l'appellent l'altruisme.Les écologistes l'appellent la responsabilité collective.Les féministes l'appellent la sororité.Les stoïciens l'appellent la bienveillance.En bref, ne pense pas qu'à toi
tirons gentiment la langue à certains cercles parisiano-centrés dans un pays malade de centralisme néo-colonial
Lyrics (c) 2024 CLH+ Another Generative Music Exploration---Hard timesHard workHard mindHard and toughEasy to sayWhen the body is awakeBut something burns inside meI should take calmI should calm downTo not be shotBy the game of life
Lyrics (c) 2024 CLH+ Another Generative Music Exploration---Hard timesHard workHard mindHard and toughEasy to sayWhen the body is awakeBut something burns inside meI should take calmI should calm downTo not be shotBy the game of life
Lyrics (c) 2024 CLH+ Another Generative Music Exploration---Hard timesHard workHard mindHard and toughEasy to sayWhen the body is awakeBut something burns inside meI should take calmI should calm downTo not be shotBy the game of life
Lyrics (c) 2024 CLH+ Another Generative Music Exploration---Hard timesHard workHard mindHard and toughEasy to sayWhen the body is awakeBut something burns inside meI should take calmI should calm downTo not be shotBy the game of life
(c) 2024 CLH---Hard timesHard workHard mindHard and toughEasy to sayWhen the body is awakeBut something burns inside me I should take calmI should calm downTo not be shotBy the game of life
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
A selection of Generated Loops to help me working hard;maybe it could help somebody else too :)
yin - https://www.vie-publique.fr/parole-dexpert/268297-un-revenu-universel-pour-repondre-la-fin-du-travailyang - https://www.challenges.fr/emploi/2030-le-revenu-universel-est-enfin-generalise-en-france_819342
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH(be indulgent, I was 16)Part of funky experiments created with Suno + Audacity---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Librement et humblement inspirée du monument de Keny Arkanahttps://soundcloud.com/kenyarkana/une-seule-humanite?in=kenyarkana/sets/etat-durgence-2---(c) 2024 CLH, Suno and Audacity :)
Sur les beats du temps qui coule, j'écris ces lignes,Une trap consciente, dure comme la pierre des mines.Des stacks de code qui changent, une migration sans fin,Du PHP au Go, un marathon pour un lendemain meilleur.La dette technique s'accumule, lourde comme un fardeau,Chaque ligne de l'ancien monde pèse comme un sceau.Les nuits s'étendent, dans le noir, les yeux sur l'écran,Convertir, optimiser, jusqu'à ce que le code soit éclairant.La priorisation, premier pas vers la libération,Les pièces critiques, sous les feux de l'action.Migration par étapes, un puzzle complexe,Microservices en Go, nouvelle ère, nouveau texte.Automatisation pour accélérer le tempo,Des scripts qui tournent, réduisant le fardeau.Les tests rigoureux, gardiens de la nouvelle porte,Assurant que chaque module importe.Formation continue, savoir partagé,Une équipe soudée, jamais déphasée.Dans cette transition, l'évaluation est reine,Pour ajuster le tir, que la performance soit pleine.C'est une lutte, oui, mais avec un but en vue,Un système plus performant, sur cela je suis tenu.Un investissement dans le futur, semant les graines,Pour un code qui résiste, fort comme l'acier, sans chaînes.Alors j'avance, avec le Go comme bannière.
AI experiment, Suno + Audacity---(verse)In the shadow of crowns, we've grown,Watching stars, dreaming of noon's glow.Kings in their ivory towers, so out of touch,We dance on their heads, free and untouched.(brige)Each step on the pavement, our declaration,Breaking their rules, our own revolution.Gone are the chains of yesterday, taking flight,On thrones' debris, we learn tonight.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.(verse)They call it order, we see the mess,In their hollow promises, we seek redress.But today, we take the reins, no plea,Crowns fallen, the future’s ours to be.(chorus)If we live, it’s to change the game,Walking on kings’ heads, we claim fame.Through the cracks of empires, we find our way,If we live, it’s to be more than kings any day.
Lyrics (c) 1996 CLHOriginal music (c) 1996 SOBLINDMusic experiments helped by Suno & Audacity---(verse)What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little world(verse)There's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another mole(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
Lyrics (c) 1996 CLHOriginal music (c) 1996 SOBLINDMusic experiments helped by Suno & Audacity---(verse)What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little world(verse)There's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another mole(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
Lyrics (c) 1996 CLHOriginal music (c) 1996 SOBLINDMusic experiments helped by Suno & Audacity---(verse)What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little world(verse)There's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another mole(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
Lyrics (c) 1996 CLHOriginal music (c) 1996 SOBLINDMusic experiments helped by Suno & Audacity---(verse)What was inside me is a nice little birdWho can't believe the sight of what the man make to EarthHe ain't know what he can do but he sees the hurtsOf the planet whom he owe life, this nice little bird.(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy little world(verse)There's no heaven for Birdie cause a simple animalDoesn't have a place between all the humansYou look for the pics in any nice shopAnd you forget the real ; you're only another mole(chorus)He's so sad, unhappy little birdHe's so sad, unhappy planet Earth
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno------Lyrics------Closed to the same dark menThe ones you'll never knowThe ones you've never caredYou're not allowed to changeWhat's the need of talking to each otherIf no one understandsIf no one tries toSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?My own vicious circleIs not the one I would chooseI was born to loseThink to be free against the othersBut without them you're no oneTell me where the freedom's your ownSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno------Lyrics------Closed to the same dark menThe ones you'll never knowThe ones you've never caredYou're not allowed to changeWhat's the need of talking to each otherIf no one understandsIf no one tries toSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?My own vicious circleIs not the one I would chooseI was born to loseThink to be free against the othersBut without them you're no oneTell me where the freedom's your ownSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno------Lyrics------Closed to the same dark menThe ones you'll never knowThe ones you've never caredYou're not allowed to changeWhat's the need of talking to each otherIf no one understandsIf no one tries toSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?My own vicious circleIs not the one I would chooseI was born to loseThink to be free against the othersBut without them you're no oneTell me where the freedom's your ownSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno------Lyrics------Closed to the same dark menThe ones you'll never knowThe ones you've never caredYou're not allowed to changeWhat's the need of talking to each otherIf no one understandsIf no one tries toSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?My own vicious circleIs not the one I would chooseI was born to loseThink to be free against the othersBut without them you're no oneTell me where the freedom's your ownSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno------Lyrics------Closed to the same dark menThe ones you'll never knowThe ones you've never caredYou're not allowed to changeWhat's the need of talking to each otherIf no one understandsIf no one tries toSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?My own vicious circleIs not the one I would chooseI was born to loseThink to be free against the othersBut without them you're no oneTell me where the freedom's your ownSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno------Lyrics------Closed to the same dark menThe ones you'll never knowThe ones you've never caredYou're not allowed to changeWhat's the need of talking to each otherIf no one understandsIf no one tries toSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?My own vicious circleIs not the one I would chooseI was born to loseThink to be free against the othersBut without them you're no oneTell me where the freedom's your ownSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?
Lyrics (c) 1999 CLHOriginal music (c) 1999 SOBLINDNew experiments created with Suno------Lyrics------Closed to the same dark menThe ones you'll never knowThe ones you've never caredYou're not allowed to changeWhat's the need of talking to each otherIf no one understandsIf no one tries toSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?My own vicious circleIs not the one I would chooseI was born to loseThink to be free against the othersBut without them you're no oneTell me where the freedom's your ownSo on I fuck with your mindEveryone means no oneJust a thing I wanna do isTo control my timeBut my time is your timeAnd so I cannot be oneAnd so the choice is not mineWhy am I so blind ?
Part of funky experiments created with Suno + AudacityPerfect vibes for starting sport again (I'm old, dudes)
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Lyrics (c) 1995 CLH (be indulgent, I was 16)Part of funky experiments created with Suno + Audacity---(verse)Thinks about peacelove, libertyabout equalityWe all dream(bridge)Life seems being doneBut you have the choiceYou prefer talking aloneThan doing a real choice(chorus)Do what you really wantFuck the other mindsDon't forget you can'thave a second chance
Les rudiments des règles du sloubi chantées pour les débuts de soirées en taverne.Pochette (c) https://www.reddit.com/r/kaamelott/comments/jqetjz/le_repurgateur_je_mentra%C3%AEne_au_dessin_pour_je/
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
An old text in French, sleeping from the last Century.Playing with Suno for inspiration... OMG.This tool is a hole to another world.Wtf.
NFT is here: https://opensea.io/assets/matic/0x2953399124f0cbb46d2cbacd8a89cf0599974963/51852123648409318922775368319097291573968407583146318189318408321753369542657