Lack - Be There Pulse - Ritornello
Those who have none will have even less, so those who have can take everything. Those who need suffer from the greed of the mouth that swallows more than it can eat. THose kicked from above will kick those below, those who work the fields don't reap what they sow. Those who run wll run faster yet, so gravediggers will have much work ahead.
I'll witness rape closing tired eyes, I'll speak half truths, my lies in disguise. I'll forge the blade for the guillotine, be a bullet man and pour in the lead, I'll plait the rope for the hangman's noose and scream 'I'm innocent' as I lose my head.
A strong man, a strong hand, give me leaders or give me death. A strong man, a strong hand, give me leaders and give me death, grand me what little luxury I need to stay in line. I am tied to the ocean floor, a sinker of autonomy.
Please someone come save me and I'll swear to fight for my servitude like it was my salvation. Give me a man, a strong hand, give me leaders or give me death. A strong hand, a strong man, give me leaders and give me death, grant me what little luxury I need to stay in line. Disburden, disburden, disburden, disburden.
Das kann man natuerlich so oder so verstehen, aber als Ergaenzung hier kurz der Text des naechsten Liedes:
God has no favourties and blood is spilled on holy hands. Parents lose their children, yet fail to understand why they're denounced as terrorists when they fall by a terrorist hand.
They're dying again and I think I see nods of approval......and history repeats itself when we, the sons and daughers, haven't learned a thing from the logic of the death camps. Victim becomes the oppressor. Can't forget, so we repeat. Now there is a boy with a bomb under his shirt, where once just a stone and a sling. But there's a thousand rifles and a million thirsty bullets.
They're dying again and I think I see nods of approval......and history repeats itself when the fuckers in power stay clear of the blood that taints their every want to remove the Unwanted. Can't forget, so we repeat. If it's sleep that you want, then sleep tight.
Sweet dreams. Meanwhile the peace that they know is not the peace that we know. It's just silce before yet another storm.....and a red sun rises. Listen! In the dawn of the wretched, the lonely sound of a promise: 'if they deny us our live, let's gran them our hell.' And by this we're dying again and again and again. Again.
Und das macht's dann schon wieder klarer, nicht?