Morten Harket

As you pour yourself a scotch
Crush a roach or check your watch
As your hands adjust your tie
people die
In the towns with funny names
Hit by bullets, caught in flames
By and large not knowing why
people die
And in small places you don't know of
Yet big for having no chance to scream
Or say good-bye
people die
La la... Let me know
People die as you elect
New apostles of neglect, self restraint
Whereby people die
Too far off to practice love