Текст песни
Under
the
parasol,
the
magistrate
sings
the
madrigal
and
shields
his
face
from
the
man
who
sells
his
madness
by
way
of
the
gun
- outside
the
manor
yard
on
the
crippled
street
young
girls
sell
their
bodies
for
bread
to
eat
stare
the
corner
down
and
say
so
we
meet
again
but
somewhere
the
people
rise
and
break
out
in
song
their
voices
are
carrying
them,
and
I
would
but
the
feet
on
my
souls
are
gone
from
the
night
they
came
in
they
came
in
trucks
with
their
iron
wrath
driving
this
country
to
its
dying
breath
but
it's
never
enough
for
the
tyrant
and
his
cattle
let
it
go
(9
times)
and
there
he
sits,
the
self-crowned
king,
in
his
bird
bath,
just
rearranging
his
things
when
he
hears
the
songs
high
over
head
he
glares
at
the
sky
in
his
disbelief
throws
a
fit
and
splashes
the
bath
empty
and
orders
his
generals
to
aim
higher
let
it
go
(12
times)
let
it
go
(11
times)
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