Twenty One Pilots: Stressed Out

"Stressed Out"

 

I wish I found some better sounds no one's ever heard,
I wish I had a better voice that sang some better words,
I wish I found some chords in an order that is new,
I wish I didn't have to rhyme every time I sang,

I was told when I get older all my fears would shrink,
But now I'm insecure and I care what people think.

My name's 'Blurryface' and I care what you think.
My name's 'Blurryface' and I care what you think.

Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol' days,
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out.
Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol' days,
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out.

We're stressed out.

Sometimes a certain smell will take me back to when I was young,
How come I'm never able to identify where it's coming from,
I'd make a candle out of it if I ever found it,
Try to sell it, never sell out of it, I'd probably only sell one,

It'd be to my brother, 'cause we have the same nose,
Same clothes homegrown a stone's throw from a creek we used to roam,
But it would remind us of when nothing really mattered,
Out of student loans and treehouse homes we all would take the latter.

My name's 'Blurryface' and I care what you think.
My name's 'Blurryface' and I care what you think.

Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol' days,
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out.
Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol' days,
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out.

We used to play pretend, give each other different names,
We would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away,
Used to dream of outer space but now they're laughing at our face,
Saying, "Wake up, you need to make money."
Yo.

We used to play pretend, give each other different names,
We would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away,
Used to dream of outer space but now they're laughing at our face,
Saying, "Wake up, you need to make money."
Yo.

Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol' days,
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out.
Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol' days,
When our momma sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out.

Used to play pretend, used to play pretend, bunny
We used to play pretend, wake up, you need the money
Used to play pretend, used to play pretend, bunny
We used to play pretend, wake up, you need the money
We used to play pretend, give each other different names,
We would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away,
Used to dream of outer space but now they're laughing at our face,
Saying, "Wake up, you need to make money."
Yo.

Twenty One Pilots (stylisé en twenty øne piløts, précédemment twenty | one | pilots) est un groupe américain, originaire de Colombus dans l'Ohio. Il se forme en 2009 et se compose, depuis 2011, de Tyler Joseph (chanteur et pianiste) et de Josh Dun (batteur)⁶. Deux albums sont publiés, Twenty One Pilots en 2009, et Regional at Best en 2011, avant de signer avec le label Fueled By Ramen en 2012⁷. Le groupe sort, avec Fueled By Ramen, leur premier album, Vessel, en 2013. Et c'est deux années plus tard, en mai 2015, que leur nouvel album est publié sous le titre de Blurryface.

(Wikipedia: https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twenty_One_Pilots

Evidemment c'est un problème, l'argent, c'est le problème de tous ceux qui sont venus après le Sakodo*. Ca ne sert plus à rien de savoir attraper les phoques, il faut apprendre à attraper l'argent. Mais ce n'est pas le plus facile, car il faut changer quelque chose dans son coeur et renier tout ce que pensaient les vieux. Pour entrer dans le cycle de l'argent et espérer posséder un jour les nouvelles techniques, il faut mourir à soi-même et à ce que furent les siens. (p. 103)

* C'est dans le monde dangereux dont les Inuit par leurs techniques, pendant des siècles, ont triomphé, et qu'ils avaient conçu comme un ordre stable et équilibré que fit irruption le premier Européen en 1884. le Sakodo (comme on nomme Gustave Holm à Amassalik, d'un mot signifiant: celui qui a beaucoup d'armes et d'outils), messager de cette richesse occidentale qui s'accroît de la course accélérée et triomphale où l'entraîne le déséquilibre permanent de son système. (p. 65)

Robert Gessain, Ammassalik ou la civilisation obligatoire, Flammarion, Paris, 1969.