Tilbage Til Start - Pede B

Det hele kører i ring

Det flytter ingenting

Igen, igen, igen, igen, igen

Det hele køre i ring

Det flytter ingenting (yeah, yeah, yeah)

Min mor er vokset op i en ejemdom i Ballerups Stationsby

Flowerpower tiden, længe før generation Y

Mormor og morfar var teenage forældre

Men manglede aldrig noget, var de flittigste mennesker

Og Ballerup var samligspunkt, for familier med unger

Der løb og legede med smilehuller og beskidte bukser

Danske børn kombineret med en masse af dem

Der kom fra Jokuslavien, Pakistan og Italien

Min mor var ret lille da hendes storesøster fik

Kysset lidt med en Nord-italiener der besøgte tit

De fandt sammen og det føltes fedt, næsten lykkeligt

Du ved, julelys i øjnene og sød musik

De fik et barn, måske lidt tidligt vil nogen mene

Men alder er vel kun et tal i det store hele

Flyttede til Baltorpvej for at kunne bo og dele

En fremtid sammen, hånd i hånd ned af brostenene

(Omkvæd x2)

Tilbage til start, det hele kører i ring

Du tror vi er oppe i fart, vi flytter ingenting

Klar parat, så forsøger vi igen, igen, igen, igen, igen

(2.Vers)

Sødeste elskling, verden kører i selvsving

Tror at alt det ændrer sig af ønsketænkning

For vi er på dybt vand, det en søsætning

Det hårdt at komme op, ligesom MØs flætning

Min onkel har altid lignet en Italiener boss

Med mørk hud og muskler, så det gjorde mine fætre os

Den ældste af dem han blev født i 1967

Mens min onkel målte op til huse på en byggeplads

Der er dumme mennesker over alt, også i den lille by

De kaldte dem spaghetti og råbte af dem i vildens sky

Mødtes af vreden, når folk spøtted på gaden

Hvor der før var harmoni var nu afløst af balade

En ting er mennesker, der skælder og smælder

Men gradvist ku min onkel ikke få arbejde længere

Det virkede næsten halvtrippet

Hvordan de gik fra glansbilled

Til et slap i ansigtet

(Omkvæd x2)

Tilbage til start, det hele kører i ring

Du tror vi er oppe i fart, vi flytter ingenting

Klar parat, så forsøger vi igen, igen, igen, igen, igen

(3.Vers)

Min familie var ik' tudemarier

De står stolt uanset hvad idioterne siger

Men det skræmmende at se, hvilket trusler det giver

Når man mixer en lille smule kultur og værdier

For efter et par år i landet gav min onkel pludselig op

Træt af at blive behandlet som om han ikke kunne nok

Anden rangs på grund af landegrans

Så han valgte igen, at flytte og tage familien tilbage til Italien

Se, jeg skammer mig en smule på mit lands vegne

Når jeg ser hvordan mit land det behandler sine egne

Ja, jeg sagde sine egne, han havde et hjem her

Og hvis vi bliver ved med at dele op i farver når vi ingen vegne

Rød og hvid er ligesom toast med marmelade

Træt af den samme vrede når det kommer til fremmedhad

Som om der kommet et hak i den gamle plade

Alt kører i ring hvor vi burde se fremad

It all runs in circles

It moves nothing

Again, again, again, again, again

It all run in circles

It moves nothing (yeah, yeah, yeah)

My mother grew up in a property in Ballerup's Stationsby

Flowerpower time, long before generation Y.

Grandma and Grandpa were teenage parents

But never lacking for anything, were the most diligent people

And Ballerup was a meeting point for families with kids

There ran and played with smile holes and dirty pants

Danish children combined with a lot of them

It came from Yukoslavia, Pakistan and Italy

My mom was pretty little when her big sister got

Kissed a bit with a northern Italian who visited often

They got together and it felt cool, almost happy

You know, Christmas lights in the eyes and sweet music

They had a baby, maybe a little early someone will think

But age is probably just a number by and large

Moved to Baltorpvej to be able to live and share

A future together, hand in hand down the cobblestones

(Chorus x2)

Back to the start, it all runs in circles

You think we're up to speed, we're not moving anything

Ready ready, then we try again, again, again, again, again

(2nd verse)

Sweetest darling, the world is running in self-swing

Believe that all that changes of wishful thinking

For we are in deep water, it's a launch

It's hard to get up, like MØ's braid

My uncle has always looked like an Italian boss

With dark skin and muscles, so did my cousins ​​us

The oldest of them he was born in 1967

While my uncle measured up to houses on a construction site

There are stupid people everywhere, even in the small town

They called them spaghetti and shouted at them in the wild cloud

Met with anger when people joked on the street

Where before there was harmony was now replaced by ballad

One thing is people who scold and slam

But gradually my uncle could no longer get a job

It seemed almost half-tripped

How they went from glossy image

For a slap in the face

(Chorus x2)

Back to the start, it all runs in circles

You think we're up to speed, we're not moving anything

Ready ready, then we try again, again, again, again, again

(Verse 3)

My family was not a tudemarier

They stand proud no matter what the idiots say

But it's scary to see what threats it gives

When you mix a little bit of culture and values

Because after a few years in the country, my uncle suddenly gave up

Tired of being treated like he could not do enough

Second rank due to land border

So he again chose to move and take the family back to Italy

See, I'm a little ashamed on behalf of my country

When I see how my country it treats its own

Yes, I said his own, he had a home here

And if we keep splitting into colors, we will get nowhere

Red and white are like toast with jam

Tired of the same anger when it comes to xenophobia

As if a notch had come in the old plate

Everything is running in a circle where we should look ahead