Lo yode’a ma yihyeh, holech barchov umishtaheh Be’emtza hayom, lachut vechom
Ne’etzar betachanat ha’otobus, be’oto makom Ro’e chaver begalgal hazman, cholfot tmunot be’enay Mirechov katan be New York uven yehuda kan Ktzat ga’agu’a vesipur yashan
Eifo hem omrim shevet achim gam yachad? Medurat hashevet ne’elma nish’ar hapachad Lo mesha’amem ba’aretz hamuvtachat Verak hatzchok mitgalgel im hake’ev beyachad Verak hatzchok mitgalgel im hake’ev beyachad
Rikud ha’Hora kvar nadam, mehasharsheret ma nish’ar Hachibuk ne’elam kmo lo kayam
Ulai nish’al et hazaken vedaroma nisa lesham Chozer maher lamtzi’ut umachar od yom shel tacharut Kmo shatil natu’a kan eich shecholef lo hazman Ki od nish’ar chalom chalom katan
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I don’t know what Is going on, walking in the street and am held up Middle of the day, humidity and heat
I stop at the bus stop, in the same place See a friend in the wheel of time, pictures passing through my eyes From a small street in New York and Ben Yehuda (a street in Tel Aviv) here A bit of longing and an old story
Where do they say brothers sit together? The tribe’s bonfire disappeared but fear stayed It is not boring in the Promised Land And only laughter rolls together with pain And only laughter rolls together with pain
The Hora dance has been silent and what is left of the chain? Hugging disappeared like it was never there
May be we will ask the old man** and will go South Quickly coming back to reality and tomorrow another day of rivalry Like a plant planted here how time passes A small dream still remains
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