El otro día estaba comiendo una manzana en la parada del autobús cuando se me acercó un pájaro regordete. Mientras andaba picoteando del suelo le tiré las semillas de la fruta y empezó a rondar alrededor de mí. Cuando se fue a la parte trasera de la parada y me giré para seguir su vuelo, me sorprendió la cantidad de basura tirada que había allí tirada. Ni siquiera estaba en el centro de la ciudad, pero había tanta porquería que bien podría haber sido un vertedero. Y allí estábamos esperado al autobús, rodeados de mierda, mientras yo intentaba darle de comer algo limpio al pajarillo y otros se dedicaban a tirar desperdicios al suelo. Y nos daba igual. Porque estábamos nadando entre basura y yo ni siquiera me había dado cuenta. A veces el mundo da más asco que la mierda.
Look at all those fancy clothes,
But these could keep us warm just like those.
And what about your soul? Is it cold?
Is it straight from the mold, and ready to be sold?
And cars and phones and diamond rings,
Bling, bling, because those are only removable things.
And what about your mind? Does it shine?
Are there things that concern you, more than your time?
Gone, going.
Gone, everything.
Gone, don’t give a damn.
Gone, be the birds, when they don’t wanna sing.
Gone, people, all awkward with their things,
Gone.
Look at you, out to make a deal.
You try to be appealing, but you lose your appeal.
And what about those shoes you’re in today?
They’ll do no good, on the bridges you burnt along the way.
And you're willing to sell, anything?
Gone, with your head.
Leave your footprints,
And we’ll shame them with our words.
Gone, people, all careless and consumed, gone.
But these could keep us warm just like those.
And what about your soul? Is it cold?
Is it straight from the mold, and ready to be sold?
And cars and phones and diamond rings,
Bling, bling, because those are only removable things.
And what about your mind? Does it shine?
Are there things that concern you, more than your time?
Gone, going.
Gone, everything.
Gone, don’t give a damn.
Gone, be the birds, when they don’t wanna sing.
Gone, people, all awkward with their things,
Gone.
Look at you, out to make a deal.
You try to be appealing, but you lose your appeal.
And what about those shoes you’re in today?
They’ll do no good, on the bridges you burnt along the way.
And you're willing to sell, anything?
Gone, with your head.
Leave your footprints,
And we’ll shame them with our words.
Gone, people, all careless and consumed, gone.
Gone, Jack Johnson
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