This Country

So sick and tired
of this country
of all these people
in their outfits
always trendy
always right in
what they're feeling
what they're seeing

Of all the parents
all the mothers
all the fathers and their daughters
on the subway
on the busses
drinking coffee in the suburbs

And the tabloids, they deliver
all you need for conversation
everyone's got same intererior
same old cups and enough experience
so sick and tired of the tattoos
of woolen hats and the right shoes
on the subway
on their way to their nice apartments
in the suburbs

I don't miss it
I don't miss it
how I miss it
oh I don't miss it
I don't miss it
how I miss it

No one's screaming
no one's bleeding
it's enough to watch the TV
and the radio's got one chanel
it's sufficient for feeling updated
and it's important being someone
in the middle, always ready
to defend that way of living
without blinking
without thinking
and I know

I don't miss it
I don't miss it
how I miss it
oh I don't miss it
I don't miss it
I cry when I miss it