Текст песни Up Patriots To Arms (English Version) [Remastered] - Franco Battiato

Yes, hello?
Yeah, this is Carla
Who are you?
Why, sure I remember
You′re Johnny, how are you?
What are you doing in New York?
Ah, just passing through, ha?
California, oh jeez
I was out there last year on vacation
It rained every day, yeah
Oh, it was terrible
Oh, nothing much
I'm listening to a record
Nothing special, just a- an Italian singer like you
Wanna hear it?
Wait just a minute, I′ll go and tune up the volume
The population's fantasy that's finally come to us
Didn′t fall from heaven
Rise up stupid people, the river′s overflowing
And empty heads are floating
And it's not my fault if there are executioners
There is imbecility
And park benches are full of alienated people
Up patriots to arms, the sky is brown
Contemporary music, gets me down
No, no, no, no
No, no, no, no
No, no, no, no
No, no, no, no
The Ayatollah Khomeini, to many he′s a saint
You always bite the bait
You build for the middle classes, the barricades in plazas
Which creates false legends of progress
Who do you think we are?
Don't judge me by my car
We are just fireflies waiting in the darkness
Up patriots to arms, the sky is brown
Contemporary music, gets me down
No, no, no, no
No, no, no, no
No, no, no, no
No, no, no, no
The capital of music finally comes to us
Full of lies and fairy tales
All the art directors, let′s send them in retirement
And all the culture clubs
And it's not my fault if there are so many spectacles
With lasers and smoke machines
And if those stages are today full of ungraceful idiots
Up patriots to arms, the sky is brown
Contemporary music, gets me down
Gets me down