Текст песни Same Shit / Complicated (Kimya Dawson) с переводом

You were looking down at them, they were looking down at you

You were starched and pressed, they were all disheveled

They were holding hands, They were ragamuffins and they said

«I know we’re not fancy but we’re on the same level

We’ve got plans, big plans! We’re gonna change the world

All you care about is dollars, that doesn’t make sense

All you do is hit snooze, watch the news, buy shoes, drink booze

Make money feel spent and

Day after day after day, it’s the same shit

Day after day after day, it’s the same shit

Day after day after day, it’s the same shit

Day after day after day after day after day.»

Then you look at them without batting an eye and say

«Hey little hippie, let your freak flag fly

Why don’t you go smoke a bowl in your best tie-dye?

Get a tattoo of a dancing bear holding a peace sign

You can talk the talk but when it comes to real change

Are you and all your little friends exactly the same?

You sit around in potlucks, pointing fingers, placing blame

Drinking kombucha and eating tempeh and

Day after day after day, it’s the same shit

Day after day after day, it’s the same shit

Day after day after day, it’s the same shit

Day after day after day after day after day.»

If you are judging them while they are judging you

And you think that makes them assholes, maybe you’re an asshole too

Do we argue with each other until we both turn blue or

Find similarities in what we like and what we do?

Yeah, just because someone does not look like me

Doesn’t mean they are a clone or a sheep

Maybe they like their job and they’re living their dream

And they love their friends and their family

Yeah, some people thrive between nine and five

And feel like they’re choking if their neck’s not tied

And some people feel as if they’re gonna die if

Their seams aren’t straight and their shoes not tied

Some people like business, some people like numbers

Some people grow organic heirloom cucumbers

And only feel free with their hands in the dirt

In a pair of old jeans and their favorite t-shirt

Some people feel enslaved when they have a boss

Some people without one feel totally lost

To make this world work, it takes all different kinds

We all have different tastes, different strengths, different minds

So it doesn’t make sense to generalize

And it doesn’t make sense to judge with our eyes

We need more compassion, we need to be kind

If you open your heart, you might like what you find

Cause there are some nice bus drivers, and there’s some mean bus drivers

And there’s some nice cops in Madison, Wisconsin

And there’s some nice teachers, and there’s some mean teachers

Just because you got a mean teacher doesn’t mean all teachers suck

And no one is nice all the time, no one is mean all the time

Think about what someone’s going through that’s making them be mean to you

Like maybe their pet gerbil died and they are really sad inside

Or maybe they got in a fight with someone that they really liked

Or maybe they are really shy, don’t know how to socialize

May just want to run and hide, not saying that it’s justified

But if we learn to empathize, the resentments will vaporize

Situations metamorphize before our very eyes

Then the need to stereotype will become outdated

When we realize that everyone is really complicated

We are all so complicated

We are all so complicated

I am also complicated

I am also complicated

Complicated

I’m a black mom, a lactivist, a home-owning punk

It’s been over a decade since the last time I got drunk

I drive a mini-van, and I’ve got junk in the trunk

I think Danny DeVito is a total hunk

I like revisiting the shit my therapist helps me remember

Being friends with someone for a long time, still not knowing their gender

I fight for equal rights, and I fight for inner peace

And I pray to the dead for the gratitude I need

I’ve got chickens in my backyard and a little garden plot

I really hate commercials but I got a slap-chop

Cause I’m a sucker for a remix, let me tell you what

By the time that I am finished, you are gonna love these nuts

I’m a little bit pop culture, a lot bit DIY

I don’t know the definition of TMI

I write poems about my period, post pictures of my log

If you don’t like body functions, you shouldn’t read my blog

My husband’s a musician from the mountains in France

He wrote me a song, we did interpretive dance

Then he knocked me up, now we have the coolest kid

Yeah, hooking up with him’s the smartest thing I ever did

And I feel like I can fly when I’m on roller skates

I get a little high when I eat dried dates

I feel like I’m unloading when I’m loading up the car

I feel like I’m exploding when I’m holding my guitar

I don’t understand what numbers have to do with success

Or what sales have to do with happiness

Unless they’re the kind of sails that will carry me to sea

Where my grandma and grandpa are waiting for me

I never thought I’d make it to 25, now I’m 37 and I’m glad that I’m alive

If I ever need a tour bus, I’m still gonna drive

Cause I like looking out the windshield as the world goes by

Looking out the windshield as the world goes by

Yeah, looking out the windshield as the world goes by

Now I’m 37 and I’m glad that I’m alive

And I like looking out the windshield as the world goes by