Odraslima - Lane, Ministar Lingvista, Nensi

Timbe: «Godine prolaze, i ne menja se ništa…»

Marčelo: «I dalje furamo svoje… uvek isti.»

Šef Sale: «Nije bitno što se borimo sa glađu, ne… jer je uloženo -- sve.»

(Marčelo)

Kroz stvarnosti okno okom okomljen na svet

Gledaš da sabiješ u stih tih opažanja splet…

Pomisliš da neko sluša taj tekst, svaku tu reč

Da oseća isti bes, isto gleda na svet

Ljudi te ubede da si ti njihov glas

Da i oni jednako ginu za istu tu stvar

Srednji prst za revolt — pali baklju, bira stranu

I — bira tvoju, pa tripuješ da nisi sam tu

Al' onda napuni dva’es' i tad se nešto desi

Pa čitav taj fazon odjednom skapira k’o dečji

I sve u šta se kleo sada zove pubertetom

Željan da se meša sa masom u fensi klubu petkom

Traži srodnu gušu, ne želi note s mukom

Gladan paorskog veselja ide trbuhom za sluhom

Mislio si da tu ima vere u autora i bunt

A samo su slušali pesme.

Čovek je čoveku zvuk

U mirno more proseka sad voze svoje lađe

A ti i dalje oplovljavaš Smrt Dobre Nade

— suludu veru da cela borba nije za džabe

Da za ljude nisi samo disk što iz plejera laje

Trik što se preraste, hit za dinu-dve

Samo trip što traje dok traje i onda ćao-će

A tebi nije jasno, jer si klinac k’o pre…

Kroz stvarnosti okno okom okomljen na svet

Refren (svi):

Stariji, sjebaniji, ali nužno iskusniji

I možda nas sada, tek sada stvarno treba slušati

Ljudi dođu i odu, tek ponekad se sete

Al' tada samo kažu: «Nisam više dete.»

Ja jesam.

Ej, Miško, a ti?

Ja jesam.

Rade, a ti?

I ja sam

Neno, a ti?

I ja sam.

Slušaoče, a ti?

(Suid):

Dobro došli u naš mali svet!

Slušaoče, da li si spreman za let?

Pa evo, ima godina… ne mogu više da se setim

Kad god pišem stihove, lagano poletim

I znam dobro, unutar mene je klinja

Dok bit me voza, muzika rominja…

Pa dignem glavu, zajebem kintu i slavu

I sve ljude što se trude da mi kažu šta ću da budem

Kad porastem… pa bla-bla-bla…

Bilo nas je više -- sad smo mala skupina

Hoćeš kola, hoćeš kuću, hoćeš stan?

Teško je, stižu godine, znam…

A mi smo večna margina: evo, Filteri i ja…

Toliko godina… srećni smo, pa zaigramo ča-ča-ča

Ponekad se pitam šta je to u čoveku, da odraste šta ga tera

Šta on to smera, ej… šta on to smera?

A juče su nam pričali bajke -- evo, pričaju nam i danas

A mi smo još uvek deca.

Zato, ne brini za nas

Raširenih očiju i toplog srca, s osmehom od Sunca

Dete na vrata kuca… ti, ti samo otvori!

Za sve ljude sa ove strane: tu su Miško, Marčelo

Nensi, Rade i Lane… i čika Su, pozdrave vam šalje!

Dignite ruke, što više i dalje, da poljubimo ljubav

Da ostanemo deca.

Jer, tu negde u nama, još jedan klinac čeka

Da ga čuvaš, i budeš njegov anđeo, care…

Jedna ljubav, za sve ljude prave

Refren (svi):

Stariji, sjebaniji, ali nužno iskusniji

I možda nas sada, tek sada stvarno treba slušati

Ljudi dođu i odu, tek ponekad se sete

Al' tada samo kažu: «Nisam više dete.»

Ja jesam.

čika Su, a ti?

I ja jesam.

Lane, a ti?

I ja sam

Kepo, a ti?

(muk starca)

…slušaoče, a ti?

Timbe: "Years go by, and nothing changes…"

Marcello: "We still steal ours - always the same."

Chief of the Hall: "It doesn't matter that we fight hunger, not… because it's invested - everything."

(Marcello)

Through reality the window with the eye perched on the world

You look to sum up in the verse of these observations a web…

You think someone is listening to that text, every word

To feel the same anger, he also looks at the world

People convince you that you are their voice

Yes, they die equally for the same thing

Middle finger for revolt - lights the torch, chooses the side

And - he chooses yours, so you try not to be alone

But then turn two and then something happens

So I read that style all of a sudden, like a child

And everything he swore to is now called puberty

Eager to mingle with the crowd at the fancy club on Fridays

He’s looking for a kindred goose, he doesn’t want notes with anguish

Hungry for Paorian joy goes belly up for hearing

You thought there was faith in the author and rebellion

And they just listened to the songs.

Man is sound to man

On average, they are now driving their boats into the calm sea

And you are still sailing around the Death of Good Hope

- the crazy belief that the whole fight is not for nothing

That for people you are not just a disc that barks from the player

The trick that grows is a hit for a dune or two

Just a trip that lasts as long as it lasts and then bye-bye

And it's not clear to you, because you're a kid like before…

Through reality the window with the eye perched on the world

Chorus (all):

Older, fucked up, but necessarily more experienced

And maybe we really, really need to be listened to now

People come and go, only sometimes do they remember

But then they just say, "I'm not a child anymore."

I am.

Hey, Miško, what about you?

I am.

Rade, and you?

Me too

Neno, and you?

Me too.

Listener, what about you?

(Suid):

Welcome to our little world!

Listener, are you ready to fly?

Well, there are years… I can't remember anymore

Whenever I write verses, I take off slowly

And I know well, there's a kid inside me

While the bit drives me, the music of the Roma…

So I raise my head, fuck the money and fame

And all the people who are trying to tell me what I'm going to be

When I grow up… so blah blah blah bla

There were more of us - now we are a small group

Do you want a car, do you want a house, do you want an apartment?

It's hard, the years are coming, I know…

And we are the eternal margin: here, Filters and I…

We have been happy for so many years, so we play cha-cha-cha

Sometimes I wonder what it is in a man to grow up, what makes him

What is he up to, hey… what is he up to?

And yesterday they told us fairy tales - here, they still tell us today

And we are still children.

So, don't worry about us

Eyes wide and warm-hearted, with a smile from the Sun.

Knock on the door, you just open it!

For all the people on this side: there are Miško, Marcelo

Nancy, Rade and Lane… and Uncle Su, send you greetings!

Raise your hands, as far as possible, to kiss love

Let's stay children.

Because, somewhere in us, another kid is waiting

To guard him, and be his angel, kings…

One love, for all people

Chorus (all):

Older, fucked up, but necessarily more experienced

And maybe we really, really need to be listened to now

People come and go, only sometimes do they remember

But then they just say, "I'm not a child anymore."

I am.

Uncle Su, and you?

I did too.

Lane, what about you?

Me too

Kepo, and you?

(muk starca)

… Listener, and you?