You own a palace that's as cold as you Where an eternal frost is king from the cave to the attic Steel walls with crystal windows Ironically the fantasies of all the villagers They are dozens of puppets Fooled by your peddling influence All these people held by their throats And father Zweigart your prestigious talebearer Hey mister mayor when you walk you seem so proud With your sharp chin fixed to the sky Narcissistic to the depths of your soul Your feet are nailed at the top of the ego's podium The sky fills with more gray The air is more and more infected The rivers water now blurred You only care about your own benefits You proudly display tremendous ambition As if it were your Babel's tower To kill time you isolate yourself in your hideout You roll the coins between your fingers Behind the throne a masquerade exists A machine even more important than the king himself A world governed by characters so different from those Imagined by the people in front of the scene Pig pens more dangerous than an army And you extras and slaves of financial cartels Untill the day your children wake up Without a home, on a land taken over by their fathers Trapped by democracy's murder Amputees of extorted power Black gold rivers flow straight into his pockets The world is at your feet, it's in the bag. You can sleep peacefullyTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
