Lyrics of Tilbage Til Start - Pede B

Tilbage Til Start (original)

Det hele kører i ring
Det flytter ingenting
Igen, igen, igen, igen, igen
Det hele køre i ring
Det flytter ingenting (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Min mor er vokset op i en ejemdom i Ballerups Stationsby
Flowerpower tiden, længe før generation Y
Mormor og morfar var teenage forældre
Men manglede aldrig noget, var de flittigste mennesker
Og Ballerup var samligspunkt, for familier med unger
Der løb og legede med smilehuller og beskidte bukser
Danske børn kombineret med en masse af dem
Der kom fra Jokuslavien, Pakistan og Italien
Min mor var ret lille da hendes storesøster fik
Kysset lidt med en Nord-italiener der besøgte tit
De fandt sammen og det føltes fedt, næsten lykkeligt
Du ved, julelys i øjnene og sød musik
De fik et barn, måske lidt tidligt vil nogen mene
Men alder er vel kun et tal i det store hele
Flyttede til Baltorpvej for at kunne bo og dele
En fremtid sammen, hånd i hånd ned af brostenene
(Omkvæd x2)
Tilbage til start, det hele kører i ring
Du tror vi er oppe i fart, vi flytter ingenting
Klar parat, så forsøger vi igen, igen, igen, igen, igen
(2.Vers)
Sødeste elskling, verden kører i selvsving
Tror at alt det ændrer sig af ønsketænkning
For vi er på dybt vand, det en søsætning
Det hårdt at komme op, ligesom MØs flætning
Min onkel har altid lignet en Italiener boss
Med mørk hud og muskler, så det gjorde mine fætre os
Den ældste af dem han blev født i 1967
Mens min onkel målte op til huse på en byggeplads
Der er dumme mennesker over alt, også i den lille by
De kaldte dem spaghetti og råbte af dem i vildens sky
Mødtes af vreden, når folk spøtted på gaden
Hvor der før var harmoni var nu afløst af balade
En ting er mennesker, der skælder og smælder
Men gradvist ku min onkel ikke få arbejde længere
Det virkede næsten halvtrippet
Hvordan de gik fra glansbilled
Til et slap i ansigtet
(Omkvæd x2)
Tilbage til start, det hele kører i ring
Du tror vi er oppe i fart, vi flytter ingenting
Klar parat, så forsøger vi igen, igen, igen, igen, igen
(3.Vers)
Min familie var ik' tudemarier
De står stolt uanset hvad idioterne siger
Men det skræmmende at se, hvilket trusler det giver
Når man mixer en lille smule kultur og værdier
For efter et par år i landet gav min onkel pludselig op
Træt af at blive behandlet som om han ikke kunne nok
Anden rangs på grund af landegrans
Så han valgte igen, at flytte og tage familien tilbage til Italien
Se, jeg skammer mig en smule på mit lands vegne
Når jeg ser hvordan mit land det behandler sine egne
Ja, jeg sagde sine egne, han havde et hjem her
Og hvis vi bliver ved med at dele op i farver når vi ingen vegne
Rød og hvid er ligesom toast med marmelade
Træt af den samme vrede når det kommer til fremmedhad
Som om der kommet et hak i den gamle plade
Alt kører i ring hvor vi burde se fremad

(translation)

It all runs in circles
It moves nothing
Again, again, again, again, again
It all run in circles
It moves nothing (yeah, yeah, yeah)
My mother grew up in a property in Ballerup's Stationsby
Flowerpower time, long before generation Y.
Grandma and Grandpa were teenage parents
But never lacking for anything, were the most diligent people
And Ballerup was a meeting point for families with kids
There ran and played with smile holes and dirty pants
Danish children combined with a lot of them
It came from Yukoslavia, Pakistan and Italy
My mom was pretty little when her big sister got
Kissed a bit with a northern Italian who visited often
They got together and it felt cool, almost happy
You know, Christmas lights in the eyes and sweet music
They had a baby, maybe a little early someone will think
But age is probably just a number by and large
Moved to Baltorpvej to be able to live and share
A future together, hand in hand down the cobblestones
(Chorus x2)
Back to the start, it all runs in circles
You think we're up to speed, we're not moving anything
Ready ready, then we try again, again, again, again, again
(2nd verse)
Sweetest darling, the world is running in self-swing
Believe that all that changes of wishful thinking
For we are in deep water, it's a launch
It's hard to get up, like MØ's braid
My uncle has always looked like an Italian boss
With dark skin and muscles, so did my cousins ​​us
The oldest of them he was born in 1967
While my uncle measured up to houses on a construction site
There are stupid people everywhere, even in the small town
They called them spaghetti and shouted at them in the wild cloud
Met with anger when people joked on the street
Where before there was harmony was now replaced by ballad
One thing is people who scold and slam
But gradually my uncle could no longer get a job
It seemed almost half-tripped
How they went from glossy image
For a slap in the face
(Chorus x2)
Back to the start, it all runs in circles
You think we're up to speed, we're not moving anything
Ready ready, then we try again, again, again, again, again
(Verse 3)
My family was not a tudemarier
They stand proud no matter what the idiots say
But it's scary to see what threats it gives
When you mix a little bit of culture and values
Because after a few years in the country, my uncle suddenly gave up
Tired of being treated like he could not do enough
Second rank due to land border
So he again chose to move and take the family back to Italy
See, I'm a little ashamed on behalf of my country
When I see how my country it treats its own
Yes, I said his own, he had a home here
And if we keep splitting into colors, we will get nowhere
Red and white are like toast with jam
Tired of the same anger when it comes to xenophobia
As if a notch had come in the old plate
Everything is running in a circle where we should look ahead