The Squares ©

Total Number: 
82
Учить песню / Learn a song: 
Music by Eugene Mirvis;
Lyrics by E.Mirvis translation
of V.Lifshitz's poetry
Performed by A.Mirvis & B.Hodgetts
US Copyright Office #PAu 4-116-919
The Squares
Yet still the order of things is bad.
People who’re melting the steel and ore,
Who’re weaving fabric, who’re baking bread,
Somebody’s shamelessly stolen your core.
Not just your labor, your love, your plans –
They’ve stolen the keenness of your open eyes;
Feeding with dogmas from t’ palms of hands,
Skills of your thinking are stolen likewise.
For every question, they gave you a say.
You’re seeing it all, but you cannot see.
Your brains now are shaped in a media way:
Corrected politically and agreed.
 
They handed you answers for all your doubts...
“The People” in motley, “The People” in gray,
Each of your morning and evening crowds,
Vacuum sucks you into the subway.
Here you go as dense as roe,
Equal now - from one tailor’s cut,
“The People” who proudly shoe, you, bro,
“The People” who know how to get any stuff.
 
Look, they are marching row after row.
One-Two-Three! Forward! Then rifle drill!
Just for parades yet or yet for the show,
“The People” who’re skillful in the kill.
But if in the middle of your daily routine,
Errands that give you your pasture corn,
You try to break out from your own bin,
Sick to your stomach of squarer forms.
 
You mutiny, rebel. You scream: “They steal!”
You want your whole self, not a half or a piece.
So firstly, they'll visit you to appeal,
“The People” who’re good at the way to convince.
Their words will be weighted and sound so true.
Their pitch’ll be exalted and kindly framed.
They’ll prove it, as simple as two times two,
That you can’t get out from this common game.
 
And you will repent, poor brother, soon.
Lost brother, you will be forgiven with prayer.
Chanting, with care, you will be returned.
To your societally authorized square
But, if you persist, your mind has been made:
“Not anymore! There’s freedom of will!”
Then, silent people will come from the shade -
People, who know very well how to kill.
 
Like quinine pills, you’ll be swallowing sorrow,
And in your window, as in a nightmare,
The clear blue flap will be tiled over, drawn
by iron black bars into multiple squares