Текст и перевод песни Dubioza kolektiv - Svi U Strajk

Svi U Strajk

Meni je muka od vjecne
Nacionalisticke furke
Da me neko smjesta
U Bosnjake, balije il' Turke
Zelim biti Hercegovac,
Zelim bit Bosanac
Zasto da u svojoj zemlji
Zivim kao stranac
Ilegalac, vanzemaljac
Dio dubiozne mase
Ne mogu mirnu gledat'
Pljacku drzavne kase
Uzimaju, otimaju
Od najnize kase
Nista ne poduzimas,
Pustas da te gaze
Ne mogu da vjerujem
Da smo masa bez glasa
Bez zvuka, bez basa,
Potlacena klasa
Svakog naseg predsjednika,
Svakog naseg poslanika
Prati glas bivseg
Ili buduceg zatvorenika
Vlada, Parlament,
Svih naroda dom
Zbog vas je nasa zemlja
Vukojebina.com
Necu distrikt
Ne priznajem kantone
Necu petnaeset vlada
Ministre morone
Sve sto sada trebam
Ritam, bas i mic
Pojacaj zvuk,
Digni saku u zrak
Zar da sutim, da gledam,
Da dubim na glavi
Trpim lose vibracije,
Osmijeh lazne demokracije
Mrtav hladan
U drustvu mrtvih glasaca
Sto bez plate
Ipak porez na budale placa
S kamatom tude dugove vraca
Ruka pravde
Sve je kraca i kraca
I svi smo dio reality show-a
Velike sestre I velika braca
Digni saku, digni saku
Digni saku u zrak
U strajk u strajk, svi u strajk
U strajk u strajk,
Svi u strajk

General Strike

I am sick and tired of the eternal
Nationalistic bullshit
To confine me
As a Bosniak, a chetnik or a Turk
I want to be a Herzegovinian
I want to be a Bosnian
Why should I live in my own country
As a stranger
An illegal alien
A part of a dubious mass
I cannot bear to watch
The plundering of the state treasury
They are seizing, they are robbing
From the poorest
You do nothing
You let them trample on you
I cannot believe
That we are a mass without a voice
Without sound, without bass,
An oppressed class
Every one of our presidents
Every one of our members of parliament
Follows the voice of a former
Or future prisoner
The government, the parliament
The home of all nations
Because of you our country is
A shithole
I don't want a district
I don't accept cantons
I don't want fifteen governments
Moronic ministers
All I need now
Rhythm, bass and a microphone
Turn up the volume
Raise your fist
Should I keep quiet, should I watch
As I sink to the bottom
I am suffering from bad vibes
The smile of fake democracy
Dead cold
In a society of dead voters
Who get no pay
Yet still pay the idiot tax
Paying off the debts of others with interest
The arm of justice
Is getting shorter and shorter
And we are all part of the reality show
Big sister and big brother
Raise your fist, raise your fist
Raise your fist
On strike, on strike
On strike, on strike
On strike