Paroles: Franco Battiato. Echoes Of Sufi Dance. Up Patriots To Arms.

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

The Ayotallah 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

The capital of music
Finally comes to us
Full of lies and fairytales
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 the stages are today
For ungraceful idiots

Up patriots to arms
The sky is brown
Contemporary music
Gets me down

Gets me down (mod.)