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Genius English Translations - Gon Ben Ari Mania English Translation Lyrics

I go down to the beach during rocket sirens, to see the Katyushas
Until I can feel the survival mechanism kicking in
Like I did when I died from DMT that I bought from Muggia
There’s a chance I’m still high on it
I’ve already been standing a whole month stunned on the verge of Zen
I’ve barely even thought of suicide again

Despite the spoiler that, come on, we’ll all end up on a scooter
In a robe, with that look of “How’d I mess up?”
In front of a coffee-possessed doctor in a branch of Klalit
Who diagnoses: “To be balanced is the fucking shit”

But maybe this is just a game of tag with mania?
With the money, the magic, and all that’s been
I’ve already been on the balcony just a second away
From the mania, mania, mania, mania

On the Mania, on the mania, on the mania, mania, mania, mania
On the mania, on the mania, on the mania, mania, mania, mania

To all the people I’ve been — bye bye
After so many months I spent getting high
I see the shelves — what are they offering?
I don’t really feel like recovering

I swear on the life of your mom:
It’s all thanks to God that I’m still here alive
Half the time drunk
A whole history that crystallized into
The Holy Exemption — hey
‘Cause I’ve got P to the T to the S to the D
Sip on that lean and I puff on that weed
At the ATM of the Middle East, with a disaster to deposit
I leverage the motherfucking psychosis, brother

P to the T to the S to the D
A master’s degree in acquiring symptoms
Tap on the blast of a mine in Tzrifin
Fair, in a sense I’m afraid to recover

So, hey, here’s a motherfucking rocket, Tel Aviv
K
What were we talking about? We’re smoking in the face of the void
How much medicinal (weed) can I get for civil shock?
Cause I have something great to repress
So get me 4G of “It’s Not My Fault”
I’m in a state, and one that has a foreign name:
P.T.S.D. - Parties, Tripping, Sex, and Drinks
My conscience is dirty, so I smoke it clean
It’s a bitch, but you’re not dreaming anymore, but you wake up feeling nice

And you’re all
P to the T to the S to the D
In the jeep, on the trip of not-even-twenty-years-old
Stressed on being straight, AKs raised
Yes, a little bit under the illusion of “Defending My Nation”
Like P to the T to the S to the D
Meanwhile I’ve only managed to digest two events
So I spread the rest into five payments
I eat panic attacks, that’s the interest that accrues
I have the gold medal in trauma, Mommy
I don’t have to look within for that
My Get-Out-Of-Jail Card -
I scratch it so it doesn’t heal

Because:
At age 6, rockets were falling next to Haifa
Shit, I’m with my cousins standing between the columns of the house
With hand towels soaked in sodium bicarbonate
We’re covering up the slits though which the afternoon leaks in

In the beginning you cry a little, then you feel like chocolate
All the time, because who knows if in a little bit
It won’t be possible to taste anything
There’s a muscle tightening up with every boom, but meanwhile

Dad’s not coming because he’s on reserve duty again, flying
No chance to fall sleep alone in the house with Mommy
Imagining that yes, a plume of gas entered
Strengthening the “don’t give a fuck” muscles

That’s how I spent all the time in school -
One eye on the grave
Going out with a goth girl - well done!
As much drama as possible about shit, just for practice
I am a kind of cheerleader for Team Elohim
Or an antidepressant for the parents
Until it becomes another life mission:
Doing community service in a spiritual race towards

On the Mania, on the mania, on the mania, mania, mania, mania
On the mania, on the mania, on the mania, mania, mania, mania

To all the people I’ve been — bye bye
After so many months I spent getting high
I see the shelves — what are they offering?
I don’t really feel like recovering

I swear on the life of your mom:
It’s thanks to God that I’m still here alive
Half the time drunk
A whole history that crystallized into
Holy release — hey