Bizawi - Feels like Chernobyl
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Lyrics:
Documents all around, who to blame, where’s the sound
Nobody move, hurt inside, outside is rough ground
Droplets, leaflets, strangers judging, can’t trust the outline
Regrets reflects on windows, the spine of society plasticine
The things that happen behind closed doors
Now remain there, no choice, pores of freedom are dangerous
No voice, all we know is all we knew, yet they say what they don’t, (generous) joys
When food runs out faster than money values forlorn
We temporarily half appreciate what we had
We face what we have to work on
Those who didn’t escape physically, do that in their mind, do that to grind
Online wasn’t far enough, so they grew a rind, words on paper, worn downs by time
As desperation grows, behaviours decline, we socially whine, we cannot opine
We eat what we get, we blind what we have to incline whilst being confined
He doesn’t stop calling mama abba
And we can’t work enough
We're all closed, living in pyjamas
We live in fear, awaiting time
The air is toxic, don’t breath the drama
We lose our jobs and it all falls down
We're mummified in the same pyjamas
We’re deep in fear, afraid to climb
Documents all around, who to blame, where’s the sound
Nobody move, hurt inside, outside is rough ground
Droplets, leaflets, strangers shrugging1, can’t trust the outline
Regrets reflects on windows, the spine of society plasticine
Wipe your ass with an a4 you got in the post
Toast your old bread, ejaculate some prose
Don’t wear any cloths, it’s video, don’t bother verbose
Gross, tumbling your toes?
We just care the your work shows
Overdose, work impose life dispose
It’s time to furlough woes, and bose
To diagnose what ticks your pose
Take those, punch a few blows, and hereby arose
Your new self, glows
A productive machine for the new world
So constructive and mean that it means null
It’s seductive to live in a bubble it’s gall
A divisive rough scheme that will help all
Be conductive with orders, diplomatically twirled
Exhaustively furled, I’m sorry, he purled
He doesn’t stop calling mama abba
And we can’t work enough
We're all closed, living in pyjamas
We live in fear, awaiting time
The air is toxic, don’t breath the drama
We lose our jobs and it all falls down
We're mummified in the same pyjamas
We’re deep in fear, afraid to climb
He doesn’t stop calling mama abba
And we can’t work enough
We're all closed, living in pyjamas
We live in fear, awaiting time
The air is toxic, don’t breath the drama
We lose our jobs and it all falls down
We build so much we’ll survive the trauma
There’s is more good in this lifetime
Documents all around, who to blame, where’s the sound
Nobody move, hurt inside, outside is rough ground
Droplets, leaflets, strangers judging, can’t trust the outline
Regrets reflects on windows, the spine of society plasticine
The things that happen behind closed doors
Now remain there, no choice, pores of freedom are dangerous
No voice, all we know is all we knew, yet they say what they don’t, (generous) joys
When food runs out faster than money values forlorn
We temporarily half appreciate what we had
We face what we have to work on
Those who didn’t escape physically, do that in their mind, do that to grind
Online wasn’t far enough, so they grew a rind, words on paper, worn downs by time
As desperation grows, behaviours decline, we socially whine, we cannot opine
We eat what we get, we blind what we have to incline whilst being confined
He doesn’t stop calling mama abba
And we can’t work enough
We're all closed, living in pyjamas
We live in fear, awaiting time
The air is toxic, don’t breath the drama
We lose our jobs and it all falls down
We're mummified in the same pyjamas
We’re deep in fear, afraid to climb
Documents all around, who to blame, where’s the sound
Nobody move, hurt inside, outside is rough ground
Droplets, leaflets, strangers shrugging1, can’t trust the outline
Regrets reflects on windows, the spine of society plasticine
Wipe your ass with an a4 you got in the post
Toast your old bread, ejaculate some prose
Don’t wear any cloths, it’s video, don’t bother verbose
Gross, tumbling your toes?
We just care the your work shows
Overdose, work impose life dispose
It’s time to furlough woes, and bose
To diagnose what ticks your pose
Take those, punch a few blows, and hereby arose
Your new self, glows
A productive machine for the new world
So constructive and mean that it means null
It’s seductive to live in a bubble it’s gall
A divisive rough scheme that will help all
Be conductive with orders, diplomatically twirled
Exhaustively furled, I’m sorry, he purled
He doesn’t stop calling mama abba
And we can’t work enough
We're all closed, living in pyjamas
We live in fear, awaiting time
The air is toxic, don’t breath the drama
We lose our jobs and it all falls down
We're mummified in the same pyjamas
We’re deep in fear, afraid to climb
He doesn’t stop calling mama abba
And we can’t work enough
We're all closed, living in pyjamas
We live in fear, awaiting time
The air is toxic, don’t breath the drama
We lose our jobs and it all falls down
We build so much we’ll survive the trauma
There’s is more good in this lifetime
