a time to laugh, a time to weep

Zinging songs of freedom on the road less traveled; one thing I could tell you is you gotta be free, Art is my religion, I speak nothing but gold, cus I am The Man this is my country

Dad’s always complaining Whats all this naatak nautanki
Chill dad, It might look trash to you but in our world we call it funky

Life looks less worthy of analysis
Never mind, we ll change it into a work of fiction
Meter or no metre, words should fall in place
On the stage I mean, man I cant give up my space

Lives get boring, there aint no fun
Put the lights on, join theatre my son!

The children of nowhere, going fast nowhere
Why stop and ponder, lets work up a new fare

Money wont be a problem, my dad owes me a fortune
He runs an NGO, another epidemic and he ll get me the moon!

Oh another festival! Another tryst for a pass
But wait! I know the sponsors’ son, and don’t you freakin tell him all plays are bakwaas!

We are the generation of cool, the factory of hep
Dylan was our rebellious father, I’d love to say I grew on Zep

Oh you heard about the latest troupe in town, man I love their work but don’t get the gist
Forget it man, you ll never get it, its not meant to mean shit, perhaps that’s why they call it absurdist!

All this time, the world who rebukes me, the same world might get up one day and applaud, sure the days must be strange
One day on the broadway and another on the street, one day I thank my stars and another I pray that things do change…..