Four years after the Revolution
and the old king's execution
Four years after I remember how
those courtiers took their final vow
String up every aristocrat
Out with the priests
Let them live on their fat
Four years after we started fighting
Marat keeps on with his 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 arse
Why do they have the gold?
Why do they have the power?
why why why why?
Why do 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 bellies 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 by traitors betrayed
Marat in the courtroom
Marat underground
Sometimes the otter and sometimes the hound
Fighting all the gentry and fighting every priest
Businessman the bourgeois the military beast
Marat always ready to stifle every scheme
of the sons of the arse 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 backs
And jail them and break them and 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
Now their asking your home address
Poor old Marat in you we trust
You work till your eyes turn as red a rust
But while you write their on your track
The boots mount the staircase
The doors thrown back
Poor old Marat they hunt you down
The bloodhounds are sniffing all over the town
Poor old Marat you work til your 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
and the old king's execution
Four years after I remember how
those courtiers took their final vow
String up every aristocrat
Out with the priests
Let them live on their fat
Four years after we started fighting
Marat keeps on with his 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 arse
Why do they have the gold?
Why do they have the power?
why why why why?
Why do 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 bellies 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 by traitors betrayed
Marat in the courtroom
Marat underground
Sometimes the otter and sometimes the hound
Fighting all the gentry and fighting every priest
Businessman the bourgeois the military beast
Marat always ready to stifle every scheme
of the sons of the arse 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 backs
And jail them and break them and 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
Now their asking your home address
Poor old Marat in you we trust
You work till your eyes turn as red a rust
But while you write their on your track
The boots mount the staircase
The doors thrown back
Poor old Marat they hunt you down
The bloodhounds are sniffing all over the town
Poor old Marat you work til your 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
envoyé par Bernart Bartleby - 9/12/2014 - 15:03
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Parole di Peter Weiss (1916-1982), scrittore, pittore, regista tedesco, naturalizzato svedese.
Musica di Richard Peaslee (1930-), compositore inglese
Dall’opera musicale intitolata “Die Verfolgung und Ermordung Jean Paul Marats dargestellt durch die Schauspielgruppe des Hospizes zu Charenton unter Anleitung des Herrn de Sade.” (“La persecuzione e l'assassinio di Jean-Paul Marat, rappresentato dalla compagnia filodrammatica dell'ospizio di Charenton sotto la guida del marchese de Sade.”), più semplicemente nota come “Marat/Sade”.
Judy Collins fece un medley di alcune delle canzoni dello spettacolo di Weiss.
Nel suo album intitolato “In My Life” pubblicato nel 1966.
Sempre del 1966 è la riduzione cinematografica che dell’opera di Weiss fece il regista britannico Peter Brook (1925-) nel suo “Marat/Sade”.