Arise, the wealthy of the earth
Arise, you worthy men
Our sun will rise when we have got
The masses on the run
There is only one thing on earth worth dying for
Oh, profit is the only thing worth dying for
This is the final fight, let our down hearts be faint
And tomorrow the stock exchange be the human race
Stand up and let us decide the price of everything
We'll take the humans by the throat and shake until they choke
Our time on this earth is of so reefer spend
That we should try to grab everything we can
This is the final fight, let our down hearts be faint
And tomorrow the stock exchange be the human race
For businessmen and shopkeepers
Arise, arise, arise
Join the legions of the rich
And the world will be ours
There is only one thing on earth worth dying
Oh, profit is the only thing worth dying for
This is the final fight, let our down hearts be faint
And tomorrow the stock exchange will be the human race
Arise, you worthy men
Our sun will rise when we have got
The masses on the run
There is only one thing on earth worth dying for
Oh, profit is the only thing worth dying for
This is the final fight, let our down hearts be faint
And tomorrow the stock exchange be the human race
Stand up and let us decide the price of everything
We'll take the humans by the throat and shake until they choke
Our time on this earth is of so reefer spend
That we should try to grab everything we can
This is the final fight, let our down hearts be faint
And tomorrow the stock exchange be the human race
For businessmen and shopkeepers
Arise, arise, arise
Join the legions of the rich
And the world will be ours
There is only one thing on earth worth dying
Oh, profit is the only thing worth dying for
This is the final fight, let our down hearts be faint
And tomorrow the stock exchange will be the human race
envoyé par Bernart Bartleby - 28/1/2014 - 13:45
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Nell’album significativamente intitolato “Banking, Violence And The Inner Life Today”
In copertina un dipinto intitolato “Die Arbeitsmänner” (“I lavoratori”) dell’artista costruttivista tedesco Franz Wilhelm Seiwert (1894-1933).
“L’unica cosa sulla terra per cui vale la pena di morire è… il profitto!”
Praticamente L'Internationale ironicamente rovesciata.
Un album che è un bilancio dei lunghi anni del “thatcherismo” (1979-1990) e del suo funesto lascito. Un lavoro in ogni caso attualissimo, considerato che è già passato quasi un quarto di secolo dalla sua uscita e La Guerre de Cent mille ans che i ricchi fanno ai poveri dura tuttora, sempre più cruenta…