“Mission To Earth”
Single Collection (2025)
1.
“Mission To Earth”
Lyrics
“Mission To Earth”
Red dust dreams in billion-dollar minds
Rocket-fueled escapes, leaving smoke behind
Chasing planets while the oceans rise
Swapping Earth’s blue for Martian rust skies
They say it’s vision, they call it fate
But how do you fix the stars
When your house is in flames?
We need a mission to Earth
Not another liftoff to nowhere
Fix the garden we’re given
Before we go play god out there
If Elon and Jeff want to ride the red tide
We’ll wave them goodbye with recycled pride
‘Cause maybe, just maybe,
We’re better off down here… without their kind
They build new worlds with 3D dreams
While cities drown and children scream
There’s no Wi-Fi on a dying tree
No oxygen in luxury schemes
Launch escape, avoid the blame
But you can’t outfly
The weight of shame
We need a mission to Earth
Not a flag on a wasteland sky
Plant some hope in the soil
Where the real stars lie
If rocket men think they’re divine
Let them orbit their bottom line
We’ll stay behind
And heal what’s still alive
“Attention all passengers
Your flight to salvation has been delayed
Due to ongoing wildfires
melting poles, and insufficient empathy”
We need a mission to Earth
Yeah, a love song in reverse
From concrete cracks to the desert bloom
We still have time, we still have room
So let the billionaires go play alone
In their Martian tombs of glass and chrome
We’ll be right here
Turning ruins back to home
Mission to Earth
Our only mission worth the fuel
Mission to Earth
Now that’s a launch that might be cool
Interpretation
“Mission to Earth” — A Love Song in Reverse
“Mission to Earth” is less a protest anthem than a mirror held up to humanity’s misplaced ambitions. It questions why, in an age of planetary crisis, our brightest minds and deepest pockets are obsessed with escape — with colonizing red dust while the blue planet burns beneath us. The song’s title itself is an inversion of the space-age dream: instead of launching outward, it calls us to return home, both physically and morally.
Through its vivid imagery — “Swapping Earth’s blue for Martian rust skies,” “No Wi-Fi on a dying tree” — the lyrics contrast the sterile promise of Mars with the organic chaos of Earth. The song mocks the billionaire space race, yet beneath the irony lies heartbreak. This is not pure satire; it’s a plea for reconnection. It mourns how innovation divorced from empathy becomes escapism.
The recurring line “We need a mission to Earth” transforms the idea of exploration into restoration. The true adventure, the song suggests, is not to conquer a new world but to care for the one we already have. When it calls itself “a love song in reverse,” it reclaims the language of romance for environmental redemption — turning desire inward, toward healing, rather than conquest.
Ultimately, “Mission to Earth” imagines a post-space-age humanity grounded not in despair but in responsibility. Its closing line, “Now that’s a launch that might be cool,” lands with quiet optimism — a wink and a warning. The message: before we reach for the stars, we should learn to hold our ground.
2.
“Asking For A Friend”
Lyrics
“Asking For A Friend”
They hiked through hell and mountain snow,
A deadly trek, three films in tow.
Eagles watched with wings so wide —
Were they booked or just denied?
I’m not saying it’s pretend…
I’m just asking for a friend.
In movies, love scenes fade to black,
No towels grabbed, no hygiene track.
No awkward laughs, no need to pee —
Just perfect sheets and symmetry.
Do they not wash when passions end?
I’m just asking for a friend.
My friend, you see, he’s not the type
To shout aloud or join the hype.
He jokes around, avoids the fight,
But lies awake most every night.
He’s got his doubts he won’t defend —
I’m just asking for a friend.
They always claim it’s duty-bound,
A fight for freedom, tightly wound.
Democracy, they all defend —
But reasons crumble in the end.
So why trust what they now intend?
I’m just asking for a friend.
They won’t touch food that once was grown
With genes enhanced or lab-made tone.
Yet queued up fast to get that shot,
No questions asked, no second thought?
Just curious – no offense,
I’m just asking for a friend.
He shrugs and smiles, avoids the mess,
Pretends to care a little less.
He’s got his questions, plays it cool,
Still somehow feels the world’s a school.
He whispers doubts he won’t defend —
I’m just asking for a friend.
They skip the straw, they bring their cup,
They talk of warming going up.
But boxes pile at every door —
How much is less, and what’s the score?
Purely wondering, in the end —
I’m just asking for a friend.
They build their rockets, chase the stars,
While schools are broke and hunger mars.
A billion just to float and grin —
Could that not help down here, within?
Not bitter, just on the mend,
I’m just asking for a friend.
Do pigeons work for some grand plan?
Are squirrels spying for The Man?
That streetlamp blinks a bit too much —
Coincidence, or just a hunch?
I’m not saying it’s the end…
I’m just asking for a friend.
The world spins ’round on roller skates,
With dancing bears and shifting plates.
The rules make sense until they don’t,
You’d try to care — and then you won’t.
So pardon me if I pretend…
I’m just asking for a friend.
If you got answers, let me know,
Just jot them down before you go.
No rush — it’s not for me.
My friend, he’d like to sleep in peace.
He thinks too much — it never ends…
I’m just asking for a friend.
Interpretation
Asking for a Friend — A Song of Irony, Empathy, and Quiet Rebellion
At first glance, “Asking for a Friend” plays like a witty collage of modern absurdities — from fantasy plot holes to social hypocrisy and conspiracy whimsy. Yet beneath the humor runs something deeper: a subtle protest against collective denial, and a tender portrait of human hesitation.
The recurring phrase “I’m just asking for a friend” becomes the song’s armor and confession all at once. It’s the fig leaf of irony we use when we want to question the world without appearing naïve, judgmental, or vulnerable. The “friend” is everyone’s alter ego — that inner voice of doubt we politely disguise in public conversation.
Each verse, though playful, exposes a different layer of cultural contradiction: our media fantasies, political justifications, consumer guilt, and moral double standards. The tone shifts effortlessly from laughter to unease — a reminder that irony is often the last refuge of sincerity.
The choruses humanize the invisible “friend”: a cautious soul, awake at night, uneasy with easy answers. By giving this figure both warmth and humor, the song resists cynicism. The bridge — with its Chaplinesque confusion over “dancing bears and shifting plates” — captures the bewildered poetry of modern life: the sense that everything spins faster than reason can keep up.
Finally, the closing chorus breaks the mask. The singer gently admits that all these questions were personal after all — a plea for understanding disguised as a joke. “If you got answers, let me know… my friend, he’d like to sleep in peace.”
It’s funny, yes, but also heartbreakingly human.
In the end, “Asking for a Friend” is a song about the courage to wonder — even when the world prefers certainty. It celebrates curiosity over dogma, empathy over outrage, and the quiet hope that someone, somewhere, might still have an honest answer.
3.
“Peaceful Warrior”
Lyrics
“Peaceful Warrior”
I don’t wear steel to draw the line
My shield is truth, my sword is time
I walk through fire but I don’t burn
I look for hearts that need to learn
No banners raised, no blood to spill
But I’ve got thunder in my will
This world is aching, torn apart
So I bring light into the dark
Love is my armor, compassion my blade
I shine a light where hearts have strayed
I’m a peaceful warrior, hear my cry
Riding on a dream across the sky
I won’t back down, I won’t retreat
I plant love’s light on every street
I’ve seen the hatred, felt the pain
But I believe we can break the chain
No more silence, no more lies
I seek the truth behind your eyes
No need for fear, no call to war
Just open hearts and open doors
I’m marching on with open hands
To heal the soul of broken lands
Love is the answer, peace is the way
I bring the light they locked away
I’m a peaceful warrior, loud and clear
Breaking through the noise, I’m always near
No, I won’t back down, I won’t concede
This is the way that hearts will lead
I’m a peaceful warrior
And you can be as well
Interpretation
The Message of “Peaceful Warrior”
“Peaceful Warrior” is a song about the quiet strength of compassion in a world that often glorifies conflict. It transforms the image of the warrior — traditionally a figure of power and aggression — into one of empathy, resilience, and light. The lyrics reject violence not by denying struggle, but by redefining it: the true battle is internal, fought with truth, patience, and love.
The song’s narrator stands as a symbol of moral courage. His “shield is truth” and his “sword is time,” suggesting that endurance and honesty are stronger than weapons. Rather than conquering enemies, he seeks to heal division — “to heal the soul of broken lands.” The warrior’s journey becomes a spiritual pilgrimage: through fire, pain, and disillusionment, he continues to bring light where darkness lingers.
The recurring chorus reinforces this sense of unwavering conviction. The peaceful warrior rides “on a dream across the sky,” embodying faith in a higher, universal purpose. Yet the tone is not distant or divine — it’s deeply human. By ending with “And you can be as well,” the song opens its arms to the listener, transforming a personal declaration into a collective invitation.
Ultimately, “Peaceful Warrior” is not about heroism in the traditional sense, but about everyday transcendence — the quiet, defiant act of choosing love in a world that too often forgets it.
4.
“Concerning the Lowering of Productivity”
Lyrics
“Concerning the Lowering of Productivity”
Inspired by Heinrich Böll’s “Anekdote zur Senkung der Arbeitsmoral”
I’m drifting in my fishing boat,
Just dreaming with the tide,
When someone steps into the sun
And blocks my peace of mind.
He taps his phone, then looks at me:
“Great weather, huh?” he grins.
I nod and think, what does he want?
My nap’s where life begins.
“You’ll have a lucky catch today!”
I say, “Already did—
Caught plenty in the morning light,
Enough to treat me right.”
He goes, “You heading out again?”
I say, “No need, I’m done.
Today’s been good, the work is through—
Now let me have my sun.”
Get out of the sun, friend, get out of the light,
And don’t disturb my drifting flight.
There’s nothing more I need to do—
The only noise out here is you.
He says, “But look, imagine this:
You sail back out once more.
Maybe even twice today—
Just think what’s still in store!”
“And then?” —
“Then sell the extra haul.”
“And then?” —
“Buy one more boat.
Then build a fleet, and after that—
A brand, a name, a quote!”
“You hire crews, you build a plant,
You ship your fish worldwide.
You climb the chain, you scale the game,
You’re running oceans wide!”
“And then?” —
“Then you retire here,
Right on this very shore,
You lie back in the sun all day
And work and stress no more!”
I smile and say, “But don’t you see?
That’s what I do right now.
So if you don’t mind stepping back,
I’d like to show you how.”
Get out of the sun, friend, get out of the light,
And don’t disturb my drifting flight.
There’s nothing more I need to do—
The only noise out here is you.
Mmm…
Just the sea… and me…
Interpretation
“Concerning the Lowering of Productivity” – A Reflection on Stillness, Success, and the Value of Enough
The song “Concerning the Lowering of Productivity” takes its inspiration from Heinrich Böll’s famous short story “Anekdote zur Senkung der Arbeitsmoral” (“Anecdote Concerning the Lowering of Productivity”), a deceptively simple tale in which a wealthy tourist and a humble fisherman discuss work, time, and happiness. In the same spirit, the song stages a quiet dialogue that exposes the absurdity of modern restlessness — the belief that every peaceful moment must justify itself by leading to something “greater.”
At its surface, the lyrics read like a light seaside encounter: one man dozing in his boat, another interrupting with unsolicited advice. Yet beneath the sunlit small talk unfolds a deeper tension — between being content and becoming successful, between the linear time of ambition and the circular rhythm of life by the tide.
The tourist represents the logic of progress: the conviction that peace must be earned later through work now. His questions echo the voice of modern capitalism — plan, expand, accumulate, retire. The fisherman answers not with argument but with stillness. His life is not empty but complete. He has already reached the state the tourist dreams of attaining.
Musically, the song mirrors this philosophy. Its spacious arrangement, slow tempo, and gently repeating chorus (“Get out of the sun, friend…”) evoke the rhythm of the sea — unhurried, eternal, self-sufficient. The absence of urgency becomes a statement in itself. Like Böll’s story, the piece resists moralizing; it simply lets the two voices meet and drift apart, leaving the listener to decide which one sounds more awake.
In the end, “Concerning the Lowering of Productivity” is less a critique than an invitation — to step out of the glare of achievement and rediscover the quiet dignity of enough. As Böll’s fisherman might remind us: sometimes the richest life is the one already being lived.
5.
“Hans in Luck”
Lyrics
“Hans in Luck”
Inspired by the German fairy tale “Hans im Glück”
I quit the job, packed up my soul…
Seven years in a cubicle took its toll
They gave me gold — well, a severance check
I thought I’d made it, but what the heck
Traded it in for a vintage ride
Convertible dream, felt so alive
Till I hit traffic, ran outta gas
Sold it for a scooter, said: “Move on fast”
Each trade a step, they called me a fool
But I felt lighter, breaking the rules
No map, no plan, no crystal ball
Just losing weight, and gaining all
I let it go, I lighten up
Turn the heavy into love
I drop the gold, I ditch the load
And laugh my way down the open road
No baggage claim, no looking back
I’ve got no riches, but nothing I lack
They say I’m broke, but I’m rich as fuck
I’m Hans in luck
Swapped the scooter for a thrift store bike
Then for a dog, ‘cause I thought she might like
Someone to walk with — she ran away
But I felt free for the first damn day
And yeah, I lost the ring, the keys, the grind
The job, the watch, but I found my mind
And when I dropped that final stone
I danced like gravity was gone
I let it go, I lighten up
Turn the heavy into love
I drop the gold, I ditch the load
And laugh my way down the open road
No baggage claim, no looking back
I’ve got no riches, but nothing I lack
They say I’m broke, but I’m rich as fuck
I’m Hans in luck
I let it go, I lighten up
Turn the heavy into love
I drop the gold, I ditch the load
And laugh my way down the open road
No baggage claim, no looking back
I’ve got no riches, but nothing I lack
They say I’m broke, but I’m rich as fuck
I’m Hans in luck
I’m Hans in luck
What if the treasure’s not in the chest?
But in the joke, the song, the rest?
I walked away from the weight and pride
And found myself on the lighter side
Laughing at life with my pockets untucked…
I’m Hans in luck
Interpretation
“Hans in Luck” — The Art of Letting Go
“Hans in Luck” reimagines an old folktale for a world that’s forgotten how to breathe. In this modern retelling, the protagonist trades not horses and cows, but the glittering symbols of 21st-century success: gold, gadgets, and the relentless grind. Each exchange isn’t a loss — it’s a liberation. The song’s narrator walks away from material weight toward something lighter, truer, and infinitely rarer: peace.
Told with humor and humility, the lyrics transform Hans from a naive dreamer into a philosopher in sneakers. His “road” is not just a country lane but the long, winding path out of social expectation and into self-acceptance. Where others see failure — giving up comfort, ambition, or control — he finds joy in the simplicity of being. Every verse strips another layer of pressure, every chorus a breath of air after holding it too long.
Musically and thematically, “Hans in Luck” sits in that delicate space between irony and serenity. It laughs at the absurdity of modern life while quietly proposing an alternative: to measure wealth not by what we own, but by what we’re free to leave behind.
In the end, the song isn’t just about Hans. It’s about anyone who’s ever chased “enough,” only to realize that enough was never the goal. It’s a celebration of the beautiful, reckless art of letting go — and walking, smiling, into the sunrise with empty hands and a full heart.
6.
“Who Knows?”
Lyrics
“Who Knows?”
Inspired by an ancient Daoist Parable
My horse ran off one summer night,
The neighbors said, “That ain’t right!”
I just shrugged and drank my tea—
“Who knows what’s meant to be?”
Then it came back with a wild one in tow,
They said, “Why, you hit the jackpot-o!”
I whispered to the wind so low—
“Who knows? Who knows?”
Oh-oh-oh, life’s a twisty road,
Lightning strikes then flowers grow.
What’s a win? What’s a loss?
Flip a coin—it’s just a toss.
Who knows? Who knows?
My boy rode that wild black steed,
Fell hard, broke what he’d need.
Crowd cried, “Such cursed luck!”
I said, “Just wait—hold up.”
Then the king’s men came with a draft so mean,
But his busted leg kept him off the team.
The neighbors stared like, “Damn, how’d you know?”
I just laughed—”Who knows? Who knows?”
Oh-oh-oh, life’s a twisty road,
Lightning strikes then flowers grow.
What’s a win? What’s a loss?
Flip a coin—it’s just a toss.
Who knows? Who knows?
Bad luck, good luck—stop keeping score.
The door slams shut? Look for the back door.
The universe winks when you think you’re stuck…
So lean back, relax, and whisper…
Oh-oh-oh, life’s a joke they wrote,
Sail the wave, don’t sink the boat.
Blessings hide in a dirty glove,
The only sure thing’s the moon above.
Who knows? Who knows?
Interpretation
The Uncarved Block: Interpreting the Wisdom of “Who Knows?”
The pop song “Who Knows?” transforms an ancient Daoist parable into a modern anthem of radical acceptance. On the surface, it is a catchy, narrative-driven track, but at its core, it is a philosophical argument set to music, challenging our most fundamental assumptions about fortune and misfortune.
The song’s central mechanism is its clever subversion of the Pre-Chorus and Chorus. Each verse presents a classic turn of events—loss, gain, injury, salvation. The Pre-Chorus captures the villagers’ (and by extension, society’s) rigid, binary judgment of these events as either “cursed luck” or “hitting the jackpot.” The narrator, however, consistently responds with the song’s titular mantra, “Who knows?” This refrain is not an expression of ignorance but of profound wisdom. It is the musical embodiment of wu wei, the Daoist principle of non-action or effortless action, which here means refusing to impose a hasty, ego-driven judgment on the unfolding flow of life.
Lyrically, the song uses simple, potent imagery to make its case. Metaphors like “life’s a twisty road” and “lightning strikes then flowers grow” visually represent the inherent unpredictability and cyclical nature of existence. They argue that a single moment is just a point on a continuous, unknowable continuum. The bridge drives this home with its spoken-word clarity: “Bad luck, good luck—stop keeping score. The door slams shut? Look for the back door.” This is the essence of the parable—the rejection of scorekeeping in favor of open-minded adaptability.
Ultimately, “Who Knows?” is more than a song; it is a mindset. It does not promise that everything will work out for the best, but rather that we cannot possibly know what “the best” even is at any given time. By releasing our grip on the need to label and control, the song suggests, we find a more profound kind of freedom. It offers the listener a lighter heart and a more resilient spirit, encouraging us to meet the twists of fate not with despair or euphoria, but with a quiet, curious, and ultimately liberating whisper: Who knows?
