IAM - Nés sous la même étoile

[Refrain]
Life is beautiful; destiny is different
No-one plays with the same cards
The cradle lifts the veil, several are the routes that it reveals
Oh well - we're not all born under the same star

Why fortune and poverty? Why am I born
with empty pockets while his are crammed full of cash?
Why did I see my dad go to work on a bike
just before seeing his in a grey three-piece in a BMW?

Money's a beautiful woman who doesn't marry paupers
Otherwise why am I all alone, maried without a dowry?
Why is it for him: creche and holidays?
For me it's: football stadium with no goal, no net
not even a white line

Why is it swimming for him and fights for me?
Coke for him and for me, coppers on the beat?
I have to manage even to eat sometimes
Why does he get to stuff himself with salmon on a bed of caviar?

Some are born lucky, and others in the shit
Why does everything around me stink? Why start on me?
Why are all his Christmases sunny
whilst my dream is overawed by a frozen reality?

He gets to study further-
Why don't I have enough money to buy their books and textbooks?
Why did I have to stop my courses? Why doesn't he have a brother to feed?
Why do I deal every day?

Why when I fail, he gets a degree?
Why do these steel cages strengthen only their ease?
His star shines brighter than mine under the great tapestry
Why wasn't I born under the same star?

[Refrain]
I can't do anything
A spectator of despair.

Like Issa, why isn't a lucky star watching over me?
Corridors full of dramas, spit, chatting nothing
with bending-over queers up ahead
Growing up without a penny's so disheartening

Wearing simple shorts,
Not being able to make toy diggers out of yoghurt pots;
But that's OK -
I don't want to blame anyone: when my time's up, I'll go out as I arrived

A radiant cocky kid clutching on to forbidden fruit
Innocent, a witness to guys gunned down in the street
Is that a childhood? A pretty shitty one, yeah
I didn't womanise, just whispered sweet nothings to
chicks who didn't have a clue

White with fear before my dad
My sister wore the veil
Ah I remember, at school the kids used to bully her,
used to tease her:
It's nothing, Lea: if we had fewer morals,
a little of this game of fire...
We'd be just like them

But I sobbed to have a job, like a begger without booze
The "I love you"s to my folks, all alone in bed at night
To each his own job, but without ambition, life is too long

Writing poems; everything is violent in this sad song:
You fix yourself to the wagon, but it's the locomotive you lack
It's not about your colour, it's about your bank account

I'm telling you my views,
even if everyone's had enough
I wouldn't be like this
if I had seen the rich life