Untitled

Mr. Me Each nation is convention Of lingvo political unity In this configuration There is no point in me Politics make tensions They cannot set the rules That satisfy their nations Except some lucky fools I’ve never signed a contract Which ordinates my fate Neither I signed a pact Which says I’m sold to state I never owned a document Which tells about my views Instructs me how to complement What other people choose I never had a wild idea To build a Babel Tower Filled up with mental supergear Which spreads out superpower So who’s that Mr.Me, you’d say While looking at the mirror Is that the one I downplay If he gets in too near? Or maybe he’s a decent bloke But I don’t know him well And that’s for good, cause what he spoke I wouldn’t dare to tell.