Para Parà Ra Ra Ra

You don't know what happened
You're locked up
In the limbo of your shithole
You stare at yourself in the mirror
With a scribbled smile
It's that of a man who doesn't think
It's that of a man who talks
It's that of a man who
Has nothing more to say
You work all day
You come back and watch porn sites
You don't try to change
But at least you want to reason
Like a man who doesn't drink
Like a man who doesn't smoke
Like a man who
Still has a lot to give
There are those who steal an airplane
And don't have money for the amusement park
Para para' ra rara
There are those who manufacture bombs
And sell them for freedom
Para para' ra rara
The right war or not is always war, it doesn't change
Nothing
So what people don't like today is in peace
A more serene life, a completely black wife, a more
Faithful lover
"a man as a friend"
Money at the end of the month to celebrate, you go to the Chinese
Organized trips without paralyzed relatives
You're a multi-degree holder all alone and divorced
You're a successful man
Especially above the shithole....above the shithole
There are those who steal an airplane
And don't have money for the amusement park
Para para' ra rara
There are those who manufacture bombs
And sell them for freedom
Para para' ra rara
Hydrogen, the environment, oil companies, the Middle East
The wall in the garden, a kamikaze as a neighbor
American peace, Mother Teresa and Lady Diana
Hunger, AIDS, the WTO, and interest
S.O.S....S.O.S
There are those who steal an airplane
And don't have money for the amusement park
Para para' ra rara
There are those who manufacture bombs
And sell them for freedom
Para para' ra rara.