Christmas is on it‘s way.
Cash registers are full,
The purses empty.
That’s how it shoul‘d be,
Because it’s fine.
The commerce is big
The christian faith is small.
Christmas the clique parties,
Patters many a sacred song
Under the rich decorated christmas tree,
Not commemorate the poor neighbours hardly.
At best TV might spoil the mud,
With bad news from wars and crises.
But why is there the button?
Off! – Away with it and out of the head.
Then christmas is able to bang right again.
The corks pop, the people are laughing,
While otherwhere on this world
Only counts the bare life.
Letzte Einträge: Easy Job for Ultras -4