It's big, it's big,
you can always see
such a white, white sand.
Yet the world is enclosed regardless,
inside a screen.
You can see men, women and children moving
inside a screen.
But someone plays up there,
pulls the neck downward.
Things go about,
switch on and off
and are happy and bleed
endlessly
on this screen, on this screen.
No future, no past,
not the slightest reason to live,
no reason to exist.
No future, no past either,
and yet you have to cross
from one shore to the other.
Never look through the rear window
at the lizards bogged down under the stone benches
at the buffalos stuck in the river sand banks,
temples bared, hair pulled back,
temples bared, hair pulled back,
Look and see darkness passing by,
Look and see darkness and lights passing by (x2)
Bad karma.
And since ten thousand years the mark of a finger
pushing the wheel,
the wheel of law.
Slam the door and shudder, shudder...
No future, no past,
now where are the roads,
the faded roads?
What have become of all
our thoughts?
This world is bound to break.
What has become of all our past lives,
the marches on which we all danced,
our acts, our gestures, our thoughts?
Whose skink have they sunk into?
Whose skink have they sunk into?
Look and see darkness passing by,
Look and see darkness and lights passing by (x2)
Bad karma.
On the bottom of a glass, the mark of a finger
like a face that would look like you.
Slam the door and shudder, shudder...
Bad karma.
And since ten thousand years the mark of a finger
pushing the wheel,
the wheel of law.
Slam the door and shudder, shudder...
Slam the door and shudder, shudder...