Moje Ves

Living in this village is harder than it seems,
boots non-stop in mud, lousy pay at work,
animals jump straight from the pub into the car,
twelve-year-old brats chip in here for a joint.
A smashed bus stop, the best shop's the Vietnamese one,
a new football pitch that won't get us anywhere,
roads so full of holes I could jerk off,
and people so pleasant I'd rather go hang myself.
I won't get mad if at least for one day
you don't crumble gossip on my pavement that fell out of other people's mouths.
I'm a hundred percent sure it wasn't me, it was my black dog Ben,
it wasn't me, it was my black dog Ben.

Nothing's happening here, time has stopped,
an endless loop that can break your neck,
boredom lurks for you around every corner,
the petrol station open non-stop, just say goodbye to it.
Don't walk straight ahead this way, you'd drop from the stench,
the biogas plant rules everywhere here.
Who will rise up with me, who will rise up with me?
I'm calling to arms, I'm calling to arms.

Cameras everywhere, shrewd faces everywhere,
they throw sticks under each other's feet,
honest citizens make the police happy,
they pass on information, but don't care what's true.
They chirp like swallows and you can't shut them up,
I'd so love to master the art of voodoo.
We've got very fertile soil here, but what's it good for
when the harvest goes onto someone else's ground.
Buds secretly grown from my female plant
the Nazi scumbags from this village stuff into their bongs,
and their heads are emptier than a cardboard box.

Nothing's happening here, time has stopped,
an endless loop that can break your neck,
boredom lurks for you around every corner,
the petrol station open non-stop, just say goodbye to it,
just say goodbye to it, just say goodbye to it.