From Where I Belong to

I come from the other side of the land
The sun shines fine through the pine
In our mountain there’s a fine line
’Tis lost in the bottom and the top
’Tis a twine of life and death, yet never know which
But I have no gun to show love
And I have no money to love my lineage

I come from the other side of the land
It’s all well to fly high, get stoned and drunk
Nothing’s wrong with us
Unlike on the other side
The snide, the obviousness is a pity
You see we do have some dignity
Our wildness and freedom puke on their ass-face
And they have stinking lockups
And they have fat asses outside shit-scattered with stolen notes

I come from the other side of the land
Killing is a mine run
So is dying
So it is surprise they have books
Thousands of books and rules and all
Murder and killing and innocence are different
These are as different as IEDs and grenades
Molotov cocktail should be our national emblem
Sorry the books are a farce
The greatest minds are suffering from amnesia
The rules should go down the drain
Better be
Life is even more out of sense
And the buck stops not, always and forever

On our side
It’s alright to loot
It’s alright to kill
It’s alright to fuckup

On their side
It’s wrong
All wrong
The heart crunches
The words can hear it
But the unholy shits never cease
And the notes galore, under the tables
Prohibition is their opposition
It is different from where I come
I come from the other side of the society,
Everything is permitted; life’s like real animals’ life
Tho’ again we don’t have to kill for a living
And their opposite is our normal
And our normal is their revolution
And the world goes round

Just be here
Just do, be do.

AND . . . FROM WHERE I BELONG
Image Scrap Yard by Petr Kratochvil from Public Domain  Pictures