Eigum við að rappa smá á ensku strákar og elskulegar stelpur?

In my land, fluffy white clouds,
green blooming plants and merry singing human ants
have whereabouts
yes on ground level we´re feeling fine
and not one second of our time/ manages to bore
but then we don't mind that on the minus third floor
they´re waging a genocidal, death raging, blood fuelled WAR!!!
and we fund this dark sadistic feast
for fat, rich, inhuman beasts
with opression and pain,
a rebel slain
a whip and a chain.
they´ve put republics on death row
just to maintain/ a steady cash flow
their routine request
is to send in their best
rabies killers to put their skills to the test
destroy, rape, mug and infest
hate everything/ but their twisted wealthking
and they terminate all they detest
like a machine/ they rank up kills
for the evergreen/ dollar bills
can you hear the alarm bell
can you easily tell
if there´s a hell/ on earth
or do we inhabit the earth in hell?
Here's to those who at birth inherited pain in a cell!

look what we've done, I wasn't told
I heard it through the grapevine
the noise, not so much a scream
but a static sine/ of suffering
a decibel added with every “ts-cling”
of the register
sure, life ain't fair
a merry union's rare/ these days
polluted air/ and toxic sunrays
but this is to much!
not god, nor the devil would go this far
it takes MAN to make this sort of scar.

Klára svo kannski seinna…