Hachayim Shelanu Tutim

We have no right at all to complain
Everything is a mess
And blessed be God
Our lives are strawberries

Hours of tor in the village
Hard to finish here, it's a mess
And the situation is a mess
Hard to sing like gold

To wake up in the morning
To enter cleanly
The candle is lit again
And the food? It's in the pantry

Slaughter in every neighborhood
An accident every day
The crane in the sky
And the tension in Jerusalem

When the homeowner carries
And also the bus driver is difficult
Then I turned to the teacher
Not everything is Ferrero Rocher

But we have no right at all to complain
Everything is a mess
And blessed be God
Our lives are strawberries

The child wakes up at night
And the woman is not enough
She buys everything she has
Hard to burn up
Hard to close a month
Hard to stick to holiness
Complete lives without roots
Only dry and some moist

The ladder is slippery
And the floor is slippery
The country is slipping
And the government? Slipping
Pouring plus sixty
The one standing in the squares
Hard with the dead
And we are all foolish

We have no right at all to complain
Everything is a mess
And blessed be God
Our lives are strawberries

We opened a good door here
We reached enough
We grabbed good
But now let's go back, to the base
Time to say thank you
Thank you for the wind
I have no time to rest
Thank you for the Sabbath
For two sons and a daughter
Thank you for all the beauty
For the privilege of seeing the Messiah
For the repair, for the authority
Thank you for childhood
Thank you for everything you created

We have no right at all to complain
Everything is a mess
And blessed be God
Our lives are strawberries