A song

[petronia]

Here, to confuse the freedom fries people (not that I think I have many of them reading my lj): a French guitar-pop ditty about 9/11. No, seriously.

You'll be wanting a translation of the lyrics, I suppose, so here they are. It's not particularly faithful, but then I'm not in the mood.


Manhattan-Kabul -- Renaud and Axelle Red

Little Puerto Rican boy
Assimilated, almost a New Yorker
In his building of glass and steel
Does his job, gets a drink of Coke, a coffee

Little Afghan girl
From the other side of the earth
Hasn't ever heard tell of Manhattan
Her daily grind is poverty and war

Two strangers far apart, so different
Both unknown, both anonymous and yet
They lie broken on the ground
The violence eternal

The 147 exploded in his window
And the blue sky above her became a storm
When the bombs razed her village

So ends his American Dream
And she, no longer a slave of dogs
Who make of Islam a tyrant
Who never have truly read the Koran

He returns to the dust
He won't be king of the world
Could this country he loved so much be in the end
A giant with feet of clay

Gods and religions
And great civilisations
Weapons and flags and countries and nations
Have always made cannon fodder of these two

Two strangers far apart, so different
Both unknown, both anonymous and yet
They lie broken on the ground
The violence eternal