Paroles et traduction Modre Hory - Bigbít

Bigbít

Cítim sa jak politický väzeň,
Tisíce politických väzňov stretnem cez deň.
A tie milióny duší to dusí,
To poznanie, že daní sa chytajú aj ruky.

Ľudí cudzích, cudzejších jak cudzinci,
čo ovladajú mimikry ich obrnené tváre.
Sú krásne, v ochranej atmosfére,
Kým iní žijú v bahne, oni v stratosfére.

Cestujem ulicami mestského štátu v Bratislave,
Kde sú reality drahé.
Kde sú banky také zdravé,
A kde sú prisťahovalci hladní, jak bývanie stále.

A tak si zoberú hypoz za niekoľko milionov,
A budú to splácať, celý život.
Budú sa musieť správať intrigou krivo,
A milo plniť sny, o samovláde tigrom.

Vlečiem sa v zápche v BMW rady šesť,
Nie je moje, ale môj známy má, má tu česť.
Vidím kocku zo skla, odráža poťahy,
Kocku zo skla neopätuje pohľad.

Život v dobe, kedy sa rodí nový vek,
Vlády salutujú elite, dobrý deň.
Globalizovaný svet, masy opojené,
Slávný napojený na heroíne slávy.

Povedz mi kto sú ti, ktorím, ľudstvo smrdí,
Povedz mi kto sú homo sapiens, v krvi homo.
Daj mi prachy homo, daj mi viac ich,
Nie homo daj mi svoj čas, a dáš mi aj majlant.

Cítim sa tak jak sa cítim vždycky,
V Lidli vraj predávajú city na lizing.
A rádia jebú na Bigbeat vždycky,
Kým my sme vďačný za Bigbeat vždycky.

Cítim sa tak jak sa cítim vždycky,
V Lidli vraj predávajú city na lizing.
A rádia jebú na Bigbeat vždycky,
Kým my sme vďačný za Bigbeat vždycky.

Za oknom sa rozteká svet a firmy,
A cash, slova prúd, autá, svetlo a búrka.
A svet, čo je v tom sám online, mokvá,
Nával aj hypokríz poď k nám blizko si.

Zdrháme preč z našich vysnených realít,
Do iných realít, makáme pre balík.
Svet sa posral skús ho prebaliť, prepáč mi,
Politik, papaláš, hopštapler, jebať ich.

V mori norí sa svorka žralokov,
Niekto tam lobuje tak trocha za bohov.
Tigre, billboard, nikde nikto,
Milióny peňazí zapchali žumpy.

Ústa ústavu rozumie sponzorne,
Spoza bonton, napchá v kontoch.
Vyzná to, a jeho sekretárka vie robiť s Wordom,
Otvoriť Word no tak poď Joe.

Cítim sa tak jak sa cítim vždycky,
V Lidli vraj predávajú city na lizing.
A rádia jebú na Bigbeat vždycky,
Kým my sme vďačný za Bigbeat vždycky.

Cítim sa tak jak sa cítim vždycky,
V Lidli vraj predávajú city na lizing.
A rádia jebú na Bigbeat vždycky,
Kým my sme vďačný za Bigbeat vždycky.

Bigbít

I feel like a political prisoner,
I meet thousands of political prisoners during the day.
And those millions of souls are suffocating,
Knowing that taxes even affect their hands.

People strange, stranger than strangers,
who control the mimicry of their armored faces.
They are beautiful, in a protective atmosphere,
While others live in the mud, they in the stratosphere.

I travel the streets of the city-state in Bratislava,
Where real estate is expensive.
Where banks are so healthy,
And where immigrants are as hungry as housing remains.

And so they take out a mortgage for several million,
And they will pay it off, all their lives.
They will have to behave cunningly and crookedly,
And sweetly fulfill dreams, about self-rule as a tiger.

I'm stuck in traffic in a BMW six series,
It's not mine, but my friend has it, he's got the honor here.
I see a cube of glass, reflecting the upholstery,
The cube of glass does not return the gaze.

Life in a time when a new age is born,
Governments salute the elite, good day.
Globalized world, the masses intoxicated,
The famous addicted to the heroin of fame.

Tell me who you are, to whom, humanity stinks,
Tell me who are the homo sapiens, in the blood of homo.
Give me money, man, give me more of it,
No man, give me your time, and you'll give me a fortune too.

I feel the way I always feel,
They say they sell feelings on credit in Lidl.
And the radios always fuck up Bigbeat,
While we are always grateful for Bigbeat.

I feel the way I always feel,
They say they sell feelings on credit in Lidl.
And the radios always fuck up Bigbeat,
While we are always grateful for Bigbeat.

Outside the window the world and companies dissolve,
And cash, a stream of words, cars, light and storm.
And the world, which is all alone in that online, is getting wet,
A wave of hypocrisy is approaching, come close to us.

We're running away from our dream realities,
Into other realities, working for a bundle.
The world has gone to shit, try to change it, excuse me,
Politician, bigwig, hustler, fuck them.

A horde of sharks is diving in the sea,
Someone is lobbying a little for the gods there.
Tigers, billboards, no one anywhere,
Millions of money have clogged the cesspools.

The mouth of the constitution understands sponsorship,
From behind etiquette, it stuffs itself into accounts.
He confesses it, and his secretary knows how to work with Word,
Open Word, so come on, Joe.

I feel the way I always feel,
They say they sell feelings on credit in Lidl.
And the radios always fuck up Bigbeat,
While we are always grateful for Bigbeat.

I feel the way I always feel,
They say they sell feelings on credit in Lidl.
And the radios always fuck up Bigbeat,
While we are always grateful for Bigbeat.