Are we supposed to be or not to be?
Said the angel to the Queen
I lift up my skirt and Voltaire turns
As he speaks, his mouth full of garlic
White, yes, white
Miss fortune of us two
He told you to be free
And you obeyed
We have to decide which is important
A war we never see or a street so black
Babies die, a system and a theory
Or our wish to be free
To organize and analyze
And at the end realize
That nobody knows
If it really happened

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS