Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Same Shit / Complicated, artist - Kimya Dawson. Album song Thunder Thighs, in the genre Музыка мира
Date of issue: 17.10.2011
Record label: Orchard
Song language: English
Same Shit / Complicated |
You were looking down at them, they were looking down at you |
You were starched and pressed, they were all disheveled |
They were holding hands, They were ragamuffins and they said |
«I know we’re not fancy but we’re on the same level |
We’ve got plans, big plans! |
We’re gonna change the world |
All you care about is dollars, that doesn’t make sense |
All you do is hit snooze, watch the news, buy shoes, drink booze |
Make money feel spent and |
Day after day after day, it’s the same shit |
Day after day after day, it’s the same shit |
Day after day after day, it’s the same shit |
Day after day after day after day after day.» |
Then you look at them without batting an eye and say |
«Hey little hippie, let your freak flag fly |
Why don’t you go smoke a bowl in your best tie-dye? |
Get a tattoo of a dancing bear holding a peace sign |
You can talk the talk but when it comes to real change |
Are you and all your little friends exactly the same? |
You sit around in potlucks, pointing fingers, placing blame |
Drinking kombucha and eating tempeh and |
Day after day after day, it’s the same shit |
Day after day after day, it’s the same shit |
Day after day after day, it’s the same shit |
Day after day after day after day after day.» |
If you are judging them while they are judging you |
And you think that makes them assholes, maybe you’re an asshole too |
Do we argue with each other until we both turn blue or |
Find similarities in what we like and what we do? |
Yeah, just because someone does not look like me |
Doesn’t mean they are a clone or a sheep |
Maybe they like their job and they’re living their dream |
And they love their friends and their family |
Yeah, some people thrive between nine and five |
And feel like they’re choking if their neck’s not tied |
And some people feel as if they’re gonna die if |
Their seams aren’t straight and their shoes not tied |
Some people like business, some people like numbers |
Some people grow organic heirloom cucumbers |
And only feel free with their hands in the dirt |
In a pair of old jeans and their favorite t-shirt |
Some people feel enslaved when they have a boss |
Some people without one feel totally lost |
To make this world work, it takes all different kinds |
We all have different tastes, different strengths, different minds |
So it doesn’t make sense to generalize |
And it doesn’t make sense to judge with our eyes |
We need more compassion, we need to be kind |
If you open your heart, you might like what you find |
Cause there are some nice bus drivers, and there’s some mean bus drivers |
And there’s some nice cops in Madison, Wisconsin |
And there’s some nice teachers, and there’s some mean teachers |
Just because you got a mean teacher doesn’t mean all teachers suck |
And no one is nice all the time, no one is mean all the time |
Think about what someone’s going through that’s making them be mean to you |
Like maybe their pet gerbil died and they are really sad inside |
Or maybe they got in a fight with someone that they really liked |
Or maybe they are really shy, don’t know how to socialize |
May just want to run and hide, not saying that it’s justified |
But if we learn to empathize, the resentments will vaporize |
Situations metamorphize before our very eyes |
Then the need to stereotype will become outdated |
When we realize that everyone is really complicated |
We are all so complicated |
We are all so complicated |
I am also complicated |
I am also complicated |
Complicated |
I’m a black mom, a lactivist, a home-owning punk |
It’s been over a decade since the last time I got drunk |
I drive a mini-van, and I’ve got junk in the trunk |
I think Danny DeVito is a total hunk |
I like revisiting the shit my therapist helps me remember |
Being friends with someone for a long time, still not knowing their gender |
I fight for equal rights, and I fight for inner peace |
And I pray to the dead for the gratitude I need |
I’ve got chickens in my backyard and a little garden plot |
I really hate commercials but I got a slap-chop |
Cause I’m a sucker for a remix, let me tell you what |
By the time that I am finished, you are gonna love these nuts |
I’m a little bit pop culture, a lot bit DIY |
I don’t know the definition of TMI |
I write poems about my period, post pictures of my log |
If you don’t like body functions, you shouldn’t read my blog |
My husband’s a musician from the mountains in France |
He wrote me a song, we did interpretive dance |
Then he knocked me up, now we have the coolest kid |
Yeah, hooking up with him’s the smartest thing I ever did |
And I feel like I can fly when I’m on roller skates |
I get a little high when I eat dried dates |
I feel like I’m unloading when I’m loading up the car |
I feel like I’m exploding when I’m holding my guitar |
I don’t understand what numbers have to do with success |
Or what sales have to do with happiness |
Unless they’re the kind of sails that will carry me to sea |
Where my grandma and grandpa are waiting for me |
I never thought I’d make it to 25, now I’m 37 and I’m glad that I’m alive |
If I ever need a tour bus, I’m still gonna drive |
Cause I like looking out the windshield as the world goes by |
Looking out the windshield as the world goes by |
Yeah, looking out the windshield as the world goes by |
Now I’m 37 and I’m glad that I’m alive |
And I like looking out the windshield as the world goes by |