We were a handful of apocalyptics,
Of mere hippies, with a false alarm...
Economists, doctors, politicians
They just treated us with derision.
Our views turned out to be valid,
And they fell silent but it's too late.
The nights are getting a little warm...
And a thick burning bush burns far away
The green into ashes soon turns to ashes ...
It's fire! It's fire!
We were crazy poets, mystics
We were everything that wasn't sane;
Now we are with statistical data
The scientists who prove us right.
From what was worth, in short, the ultimate logic
Of today's maximum consumption,
Of a barbaric technological march
And of blind faith in technology?
There is only one feeling which is of pity and of
Malogro...
It's fire... it's fire...
Sweet beautiful, rich and unique abode,
Dilapidated just as if you were
The mine of economic fortune,
The eternal source of fossil energies,
What will it be, with a few more degrees Celsius,
Of a river, a bay or a reef,
Or an islander in the wild crying out to the heavens, if the
Seas rise too much, in Tenerife?
And of those without water, what will become of every supplication,
Of every plea
It's fire... it's fire...
In so many places, from the Arctic to the Antarctic
We left our mark on the planet:
Let us now alleviate the worst part of the
Tragedy announced with a trumpet .
Everyone will pay for the damage;
It's awesome! It's fire!...
It's life at stake!