I don't know which thing is responsible This thing is at most 16, it's not older than that. It fantasises and goes through puberty and doesn't care about things. Outside, there are wars, cold zones This thing wants to live in an idyll at all costs This thing should be punished, but properly It makes itself important with its idyll I implore it, it can't go on like this Suddenly these rays, everything is bright Thing is ingenious, my friend and master Clouds dance, friendly spirits I beam at everyone sunny And everyone suns back But, but, the world is so macabre Then this cruel drivel