Marat / Sade

4 years after the revolution and the old kings execution 4 years after remember how those portia took their final bow String up every aristocrat Out with the priests and let then live on their fat Four years after we started fighting Marat keeps up with his writing Four years after the bastille fell He still recalls the old battle yell Down with all of the ruling class Throw all the generals out on their ass Why do they have the gold Why do they have the power why why why why why Do they have the friends at the top Why do they have the jobs at the top We've got nothing always had nothing Nothing but holes and millions of them Living in holes Dying in holes Holes in our bellies and Holes in our clothes Marat we're poor And the poor stay poor Marat don't make us wait any more We want our rights and we don't care how We want a revolution Now Four years he fought and he fought unafraid Sniffing down traitors by traitors betrayed Marat in the courtroom Marat underground Sometimes the otter and sometimes the hound Fighting all the gentry and fighting every priest The business man the bourgeois the military beast Marat always ready to stifle every scheme Of the sons of the ass licking dying regime We've got new generals our leaders are new They sit and they argue and all that they do is sell their own colleagues And ride upon their backs Or jail them Or break them Or give them all the ax Screaming in language that no one understand Of the rights that we grab with our own bleeding hands When we wiped out the bosses And stormed threw the wall of the prison you told us would outlast us all Marat we're poor And the poor stay poor Marat don't make us wait any more We want our rights and we don't care how We want a revolution Now Poor old marat they hunt you down The bloodhounds are sniffing all over the town Just yesterday your printing press was smashed Now their asking your home address Poor old Marat in you we trust You work till your eyes turn as red a rust But while you write their on your track The boots mount the staircase The doors thrown back Poor old Marat in you we trust You work till your eyes turn as red a rust Poor old marat we trust in you Marat we're poor And the poor stay poor Marat don't make us wait any more We want our rights and we don't care how We want a revolution Now