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(Paths and Ramparts, by Yunius Pamflet)
eight hierarchs control the city where we live
with all their lackeys they're watching over ramparts
I walk with no goal towards no other place
throughout an unfinishèd path
we are like pawns into a game of luck
thirty families decide about tomorrow
they've perforated throughout land tarmac trails
they've appropiated each single hectare
fences of wire, of barbed, reinforced concrete
in every corner a nest of machine gun
enclosed the mountains and poisoned our seas
and so they keep strewing ramparts (solo)
over the coastlines it's blowing a hurricane
over their top thrones they're only sending guardians
screams of death are going accross the city
meanwhile an eye is watching over its watchtower
enough of guardians and camps of cruelty
enough of ramparts and frontairs that divide us
we live imprisoned in a world with no law
except of fear, an order that will mark us
camps of destruction, missery, slavery...
maybe a fortress without any flag raised up
winged selves in prisons, in jails of iron, brass,
like crowds of pigeons which live like dirty rats
I search for a path towards the liberty
jumping over walls and nests of machine guns
over the brick walls we hear the blowing from sea
into our imprisoned city...
ah ah ah, aah ah ¡ah! ah ah ah aaaah, ah ah, ah ah ah ¡ah! ah ¡AHHH ah! ah ah uhnnn... uh, uh uh uh uh uuuuuh...
into our imprisoned city...