Hachayim Shelanu Tutim
ein lanu zchut bichlal lehitlonen
hakol tfu chamsa
uvaruch hashem ki
hachayim shelanu tutim
sha’ot shel tor bado’ar
kasheh ligmor po to’ar
vehamatzav bano’ar
kashah lashir kmo zohar
lehit’orer baboker
llehikanes lekosher
hadelek shuv beyoker
vehamoza? hi be’otzer
shchitut bechol shvu’ayim
pigu’a kol yomoayim
ha’arnona bashamayim
vehatest beyerushalayim
ksheba’al habayit noshe
vegam haboss nuksheh
az hafachti lemorsheh
lo hakol ferrero rocher
aval ein lanu zchut bichlal lehitlonen
hakol tfu chamsa
uvaruch hashem ki
hachayim shelanu tutim
hayeled kam balayla
veha’isha lo dai la
kona kol ma sheba la
kashah lish’of lema’ala
kashah lisgor t’chodesh
kashahlidvok bakodesh
chayim shlemim bli shoresh
ein arak veyesh yovesh
hasolela ozelet
vehatikra nozelet
hamedina gozelet
vehamemshala? pozelet
shotef plus shishim
ha’omes bakvishim
kasha im hamisim
vechulanu adishim
ein lanu zchut bichlal lehitlonen
hakol tfu chamsa
uvaruch hashem ki
hachayim shelanu tutim
tov patachnu po jora
kitarnu maspik
kafinu tova
achshav nachzor achora, el habasis
zman lomar toda
toda al haru’ach
she’en li zman lanu’ach
tada al hashabbat
al shney banim uvat
toda al kol hayofi
al hazchut lir’ot et messi
al hatikun al hamahut
toda al hayaldut
toda al kol ma shebara’ata
ein lanu zchut bichlal lehitlonen
hakol tfu chamsa
uvaruch hashem ki
hachayim shelanu tutim
Our Lives Are Strawberries
We have no right at all to complain
Everything is a mess
And blessed be God
Our lives are strawberries
Hours of tor in the village
Hard to finish here, it's a mess
And the situation is a mess
Hard to sing like gold
To wake up in the morning
To enter cleanly
The candle is lit again
And the food? It's in the pantry
Slaughter in every neighborhood
An accident every day
The crane in the sky
And the tension in Jerusalem
When the homeowner carries
And also the bus driver is difficult
Then I turned to the teacher
Not everything is Ferrero Rocher
But we have no right at all to complain
Everything is a mess
And blessed be God
Our lives are strawberries
The child wakes up at night
And the woman is not enough
She buys everything she has
Hard to burn up
Hard to close a month
Hard to stick to holiness
Complete lives without roots
Only dry and some moist
The ladder is slippery
And the floor is slippery
The country is slipping
And the government? Slipping
Pouring plus sixty
The one standing in the squares
Hard with the dead
And we are all foolish
We have no right at all to complain
Everything is a mess
And blessed be God
Our lives are strawberries
We opened a good door here
We reached enough
We grabbed good
But now let's go back, to the base
Time to say thank you
Thank you for the wind
I have no time to rest
Thank you for the Sabbath
For two sons and a daughter
Thank you for all the beauty
For the privilege of seeing the Messiah
For the repair, for the authority
Thank you for childhood
Thank you for everything you created
We have no right at all to complain
Everything is a mess
And blessed be God
Our lives are strawberries