They had dreams to achieve
but lifting a finger was almost painful
Ideas want to arrive but motivation leaves
facial expressions strive to convey hopeful
Forming a plan sounds like new clothes
but those folks don´t wear them
Most live day to day like common hobos
Deep down they don´t care, but it´s nice to pretend
Always going for the job when the office is closed
Feeling sorry for yourself is not a good anchor
Lack of inspiration opens no doors
You call ambition the devil´s dice roll
That without it you´ll have humility or a better soul
Pretending righteously one has no life desires, no goals
How this quaint little world encourages complacency
for people disguise themselves as winners waiting patiently
As time ticks by and a piece of heaven in the sky is described
by the pastor who preaches pre-determined anti-strive
Anti-abortion calamity pride
Yes great Mayors, preists and public lords of the flies
Blame it on the devil and the sinners and their lies
That you can´t plan, execute, create and provide
Blame it on the heathens or the devout in the wrong Faith
That the streets should be littered with filth and disgrace
But deep down my friend noone else is to blame
not the government, or Portugal, Italy or Spain
It is you who won´t move, except for a bribe
Football fanatic,
predestinarian pride
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