We still see a few birds
But all in all that's out of style
All this multicoloured mess
In the end, was dirtying the road
Many complaints were filed
For disturbing the normality 1
Singing in an extinct language
Certainly, that hasn’t sorted anything
When they approached the windows
The people felt themselves targeted
“For all we know, they read our letters
And their gibberish is coded”
We had to make up our minds facing this conspiracy
We voted for the genocide out of cautiousness
The bushes served as lairs
The trees served as cover
We all threw that to the ground
We’re more relaxed these days
Those who survived the carnage
Those who were the least suspicious
We carry them around in cages
We have rendered them mute
We all speak the same language
That way we can follow the echo
Of the same voice harping on
On the same news channel
For those who love folklore
Faraway in a few lost corners
We still see a few birds
But all in all that's out of style
Despite the rounds of the guards
Who keep watch over the absolute silence
There still remains a weak murmur
Like a forbidden refrain
Mmmmmm…
Mmmmmmmmmmmm…
Which vibrates in the heart of each stone
Like a distant reproach
Tenacious as the ivy
And which tell us where we’re from…
Mmmmmm…
Mmmmmmmmmmmm…
Tenacious as the ivy
And which tells us where we’re from…
1. An imaginary crime along the lines of "disturbing the peace"