But October 7 changed everything.
In the raw aftermath of that Shabbat, as Israel grapples with its deepest collective trauma in generations, this song's simple message – that things will get "better and better and better" – has pierced through our society's famously rigid secular-religious divide.
Walk through Tel Aviv's Carmel Market, and you'll hear it playing alongside the usual mix of Mizrahi pop and Mediterranean beats. Drive through the streets of Ramat Gan, and you'll catch secular teenagers singing along to verses about God's fatherly love. Even in the most militantly secular spaces, the song's chorus has become something of a national mantra.
What's most striking isn't just its crossover appeal, but how it's being embraced in its entirety. Secular listeners aren't creating their own sanitized versions or skipping the religious references. Instead, they're finding their own meaning in its spiritual comfort, whether they interpret "Hashem" literally or metaphorically.
Perhaps this shouldn't surprise us. In bomb shelters and army bases, in hospital wards and volunteer centers, the traditional lines between religious and secular Israel have increasingly blurred. When soldiers recite Tehillim (Psalms) before operations, it's often impossible to distinguish between those who grew up in Bnei Brak and those from Bat Yam.
The song's repetitive promise of "tov" (good) has become something larger than its religious origins – it's a declaration of hope in the face of darkness, a musical act of defiance against despair. As we continue to count our losses, await our hostages' return, and send our children to the front, there's something powerful about collectively declaring that better days lie ahead.
For me personally, as an Orthodox Jew, I watch soccer fans singing about Hashem and I am filled with joy.
This song reminds me that in times of national crisis, the markers we use to separate ourselves can become the very threads that bind us together. Whether you're wearing a kippah or a Black hat or no head covering at all, sometimes we all need to believe that everything will be "better and better and better."
And in today's Israel, that's something worth singing about.
