Passing years haven't really marked us.

(transl. by Tanya J. Wolfson)

Passing years haven't really marked us.
We still face the future with poise.
Except even the weather forecast
Is lying to us most days.

But we have amazing composure -
Steeped in drivel and going strong.
We are jaded, plus there's no measure
Of what precisely is wrong.

Can you make heads or tails of
The flood of endless news
Assuming lack of fail-safe,
Adjusting for the lies.
Believe, and face the danger
Of coming out a fool,
Then losing it in anger
And lying to stay cool...

It appears basic woes have departed -
We are more or less clothed and fed.
But we seem to be stuck in some nightmarish party,
Its cause long forgotten or dead.

And everyone has a hangover,
But alcohol flows all the same,
And we keep lying over and over and over,
And are we really to blame?

Can you make heads or tails of...

And again I tune out while saying "yes" -
Everyone adapts as he must.
So a great sweeping wave of cynicism
Drowns many a timid trust.

Hard to think past this info-mania
Of the path we once vowed to keep.
All's forgotten, only insomnia
Interferes with a good night's sleep.

Can you make heads or tails of
The flood of endless news
Assuming lack of fail-safe,
Adjusting for the lies.
Believe, and face the danger
Of coming out a fool,
Then losing it in anger
And lying to stay cool. Just because.