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Marat/Sade

Four years after the revolution

and the old king's execution

four years after remember how

those courtiers took their final bow

String up every aristocrat

out with the priests and let them live on their fat

Four years after we started fighting

Marat keeps on with is 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 have 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 belly's and holes in our clothes

Marat we're poor

and the poor stay poor

Marat don't make us wait anymore

we want our rights and we don't care how

we want our revolution...NOW!

Four years he fought and he fought unafraid

sniffing down traitors while 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 back

or jail them or break them or give them all the axe

Screaming in language that no-one understands

of the rights that we grabbed with our own bleeding hands

when we wiped out the bosses and stormed through the wall

of the prison they told us would outlast us all...

Marat we're poor

and the poor stay poor

Marat don't make us wait anymore

we want our rights and we don't care how

we want our revolution...NOW!

Poor old Marat they hunt you down

the bloodhounds are sniffing all over the town

just yesterday your printing press

was smashed while they're asking your home address

Poor old Marat in you we trust

you work 'til you eyes turn as red as rust

but while you write they're on your track

the boots mount the staircase, the doors thrown back

Poor old Marat in you we trust

you work 'til you eyes turn as red as rust

Poor old Marat we trust in you...

Marat we're poor

and the poor stay poor

Marat don't make us wait anymore

we want our rights and we don't care how

we want our revolution...NOW!

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Lyrics submitted by C Kelly Collins.

Enjoy the lyrics !!!