Uzbekistan - The Sound Of Animals Fighting

Uzbekistan - The Sound Of Animals Fighting
The world owes me nothing, yet has given me a great deal.
Away from all the children, away. Fear the walls that you made.
All your fears are mine, airplanes and time fly far away.
Time is the only distance, between the artist and the masterpiece.
Running around our business, explaining what i should have picked
sitting in a seating chair, with papers on the wall
Twiddling your rubber thumbs, in a sea of alphabetical
Let your heart break, in pain; you'll find the truth
Let your mind spin, the burden of logic and proof
They try to take away. We must turn our boredom to gratitude.
I love, love, love.
I want, want, want.
I need, need, need.
I am, am , am.
The world owes me nothing, yet has given me a great deal.
Who wrote your words?
Who sews your strings?
Who built your boat?
Who placed your bet?
Why do I wonder?
Some people never even ask.
What are you thinking? Who's in charge?
I don't understand French, but if I could,
I would write beautiful songs about horrible things...
because it is said to be the language of love and romance...
and if love didn't exist, there wouldn't be any horrible things.
You must care to cry, love something in order to hate something...
You must have a heart in order for it to be broken.
Many people walk in a dream.
They feel entitled to happiness and feel anger when it is not waiting for them.
I know that the world owes me nothing, yet has given me a great deal.
It is our own perception we get to bend and mold to our liking-
once that is accomplished, the reality we once knew begins to change.
My neighbor may be dark and gloomy, but I find it a perfect day to go outside.
I can knock on his door, but that doesn't mean he will answer.
And I will have to walk away, sad, from his little house
where he sleeps and smokes and drinks all day,
just to escape what he does not yet know.
We find ourselves in little boxes watching little boxes.
We see an edited version of human life, targeted on alienating us as individuals,
to distract us from the seedy underbelly of politics and business.
We are products of a Machiavellian society.
Look at the pretty girl dancing- her hair is so shiny.
I want my hair to be shiny. Look at the man with chizzled features-
use the razor he is using. It will give you the kind of charm that woman crave.
Women will want you. Men will adore you. You will be happy. You will be empty.
Because it is not about the product, but the feeling they try to convey.
And it is not for your benefit, it is for the benefit of the holders of the company.
We must burn our little boxes. We must create dialogue.
We must realize the importance of every moment.
We must turn our boredom to gratitude.
Use your hands, your thoughts, your hunger.
These things are yours and yours alone.