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There's just a few time before the following starts
Song

There's just a few time before the following starts.
On each one and all it depends what this is.
If it is or it is not the freezing,
the end of the banks of fish,
the desert that comes and is your fear.

Is this what we are going to do?
Is all this plastic what we are going to leave around here?
This to the children brought to the force to the parks of the first world.
Needles into cells.
Brought by force to see this.
Brought to the unhealthy.
Allergy.
Diesel.

Betrayed by what we have done.
We have let do.
We have left did.
The aim of history.
And of there to the end of the political.
And of there to the end of the world.
Literally.

This, this and this is what we are going to change.
Indicating.
We do not have left long time for subtilities.
With the added difficulty to work with the present.
A present plenty, in urgency.

This cannot be changed without changing it everything.
The ecological equidistance.
The green consensus.
The democratic shareholders.
Ecological Capitalism.
It is improbable, it is impossible.

The lie that conceals the suffering from today to the desert.
While bunker is constructed.
That they define holocaust to us.
That they define terrorism to us.

Nostalgic, utopist, illustrated, sixtyeighted, apocalyptic!
Indeed perverse.
Indeed in that it seems so evident.
And that is so deeply ideological.
It must have some yield in letting exist in the planet.

We have lost so many things.
As much time.
So many lives.
So much fertility.
So much health.
So many species.
So many rights.
We have lost until the tale.
Conceptual biodiversity.

The humans can do more.
To extend the thinkable.
To construct other ways to live.

How we let ourselves convince that reasons are not enough for the action?
Why blind and relative?
To preserve this.
The tempering.
The language.
The imperfect also.
These beings with relative conscience.
Imagine yourself in the middle of a storm for 5,000 years.
Even to make justice to so many sacrifices.

The false triunfal growth on nature.
As if we were not part of her.
In 30 countries (not in other many).
In certain districts (not in all).
In those houses (not in the cardboard boxes).
This bill tomorrow can not be worth anything.
Convincing conventions.
Congratulations: we have won the war ourselves.

A humanity that does not please itself.
That commits suicide.
We are not being able of more, better, for all.
To think person.
To forget rays on the maps, to speak more from de inside, from the basic.

To think life,
to think species all to us.
In the long term.

We don't change this: worried precariously bad-mannered without perspective.
Calmed by those bright objects that unfold,
immediately they are lined,
immediately they are out of fashion.
Entertained.
Squandering.
We need images of the common well.

The transnational companies overwhelmed with rights.
The unpunished governments usually are not very sensible to the metaphors.

We are scared.
To this he is called to him to resign.
For me and all my companions.
And we stepped on the flower not to feel it,
not to feel anything,
anything that does different all to us equally incapable.

Collective anesthesia in front of life,
ours those of anyone,
those nobodies that will not be able to arrive.
As they and they do not arrive,
those that cross the sea.

Unless we pruned to give sense to this of the human.
Without feeling to us chosen nor transcendental.
That we are happy with less things.
That we constitute logics, different normalities.
That we feed the consciences with possibility,
that we know to share, to empatize.
To be collectively ambitious of another less destructive form.
And with the correct scale.

This is here every day.
This is here every day.
And I can do something.
And we can.
And those that do not want
if we forced to them will even have to be able.
We are going to them to make be able.
This is here every day.