This is a song for the fish we won’t fish
And the octopus that we won’t kill with our teeth
This is a song for the shit we won’t clean
And the grass we won’t press in a Sunday picnic

This is a song for the thrill we won’t feel
As we grill a sea bream covered in suntan cream
This is a song for the beasts we won’t feed
For our shadows dropped down on some cinema seats

And like a soap bubble you’ll float away
But the fishes in the sea will stay more or less the same

This is a song for the time we won’t waste
For all long islands that won’t be held in our hands
This is a song for people on the way
Listening to the silence of the words we won’t say

And like a soap bubble you’ll burst away
But the newts inside the tanks will stay more or less the same