Всем нам даёт силы одно и то же:
вера в человеческую натуру,
справедливость и равенство...
Всё, что у нас есть - вера, что ведёт нас.
Незначительно то изменение,
когда наше голосование
становится простой формальностью,
и наши повелители и хозяева низвергают нас
до ролей рабов и невольников
во имя новой империи.
Да, и каждый кровавый император требует,
чтобы свобода была его личным делом,
когда он вбивает свое всеобщее прикосновение
как экстренные параграфы.
К народам народы обращаются на языке канавы;
обменянные инсульты в прайм-тайм
на импульсы империи
простираются через экраны.
Истина повержена на колени;
ложь внедрена беспредельно,
и пока эти повторения не станут
официальной доктриной,
мы - предатели неверия.
С каким же бессилием мы горюем
о демократическом процессе,
пока наши славные лидеры
тайно договариваются накормить нас
последними остатками диктаторского презрения
во имя новой империи.
Да, и каждый кровавый император
тянет свои руки к юбке истории,
когда позирует для потомства,
стоя на свежевыкопанной грязи.
Да, и каждый кровавый император
с мерзкой ухмылкой на губах
говорит о своем способе выхода из положения
почти что попало, но ложь - внутри,
потому что каждый кровавый император
думает, что его право управлять - свято,
так что он будет изворачиваться и изворачиваться,
и изворачиваться до своего конца.
Незначительно то изменение,
когда один за одним наши голоса затихают,
и двойные стандарты пропаганды
сковывают весь наш праведный гнев.
Всем нам даёт силы одно и то же:
вера в человеческую натуру.
Но наша вера исчезает - с приближением к финишу,
мы - всего лишь рабы и невольники
в тот момент, когда империя рушится.
Every Bloody Emperor
By this we are all sustained: a belief in human nature
and in justice and parity...all we have is the faith to carry on.
Imperceptible the change as our votes become mere gestures
and our lords and masters determine to cast us
in the roles of serfs and slaves
in the new empire's name.
Yes and every bloody emperor claims that freedom is his cause
as he buffs up on his common touch as a get-out clause.
Unto nations nations speak in the language of the gutter;
trading primetime insults the imperial impulse
extends across the screen.
Truth's been beaten to its knees; the lies embed ad infinitum
till their repetition becomes a dictum
we're traitors to disbelieve.
With what impotence we grieve for the democratic process
as our glorious leaders conspire to feed us
the last dregs of imperious disdain
in the new empire's name.
Yes and every bloody emperor's got his hands up history's skirt
as he poses for posterity over the fresh-dug dirt.
Yes and every bloody emperor with his sickly rictus grin
talks his way out of nearly anything but the lie within
because every bloody emperor thinks his right to rule divine
so he'll go spinning and spinning and spinning into his own decline.
Imperceptible the change as one by one our voices falter
and the double standards of propaganda
still all our righteous rage.
By this we are all sustained: our belief in human nature.
But our faith diminishes - close to the finish,
we're only serfs and slaves
as the empire decays.
Everybody gives us strength is the same:
faith in human nature,
justice and equality ...
All that we have - faith that leads us.
Slightly the change,
when our vote
becomes a mere formality,
our lords and masters overthrows us
to the role of slaves and slaves
in the name of the new empire.
Yes, every bloody emperor requires
that freedom was his personal affair,
when he drives his universal touch
as the extra paragraphs.
To the peoples of the nations are traded on the language of the ditch;
exchanged insults in primetime
Empire on pulses
extend through the screens.
Truth defeated to its knees;
lie introduced indefinitely,
and repeating until these become
the official doctrine,
we are - traitors disbelief.
With what impotence we grieve
the democratic process,
until our glorious leaders
secretly agree to feed us
the last remnants of the dictatorial contempt
in the name of the new empire.
Yes, every bloody emperor
pulling his hands to the skirt of history,
when posing for posterity,
standing on the freshly dug dirt.
Yes, every bloody emperor
with a nasty grin on his lips
talks about his way out of the situation
almost fell, but lie - in,
because every bloody emperor
He thinks that his right to rule - holy,
so he will dodge and dodge,
and twist to its end.
Slightly the change,
when one by one our voices fall silent,
Propaganda and double standards
fetter all our righteous anger.
Everybody gives us strength is the same:
faith in human nature.
But our faith is disappearing - approaching the finish line,
We - just slaves and slaves
at a time when the empire is crumbling.
Every Bloody Emperor
By this we are all sustained: a belief in human nature
and in justice and parity ... all we have is the faith to carry on.
Imperceptible the change as our votes become mere gestures
and our lords and masters determine to cast us
in the roles of serfs and slaves
in the new empire's name.
Yes and every bloody emperor claims that freedom is his cause
as he buffs up on his common touch as a get-out clause.
Unto nations nations speak in the language of the gutter;
trading primetime insults the imperial impulse
extends across the screen.
Truth's been beaten to its knees; the lies embed ad infinitum
till their repetition becomes a dictum
we're traitors to disbelieve.
With what impotence we grieve for the democratic process
as our glorious leaders conspire to feed us
the last dregs of imperious disdain
in the new empire's name.
Yes and every bloody emperor's got his hands up history's skirt
as he poses for posterity over the fresh-dug dirt.
Yes and every bloody emperor with his sickly rictus grin
talks his way out of nearly anything but the lie within
because every bloody emperor thinks his right to rule divine
so he'll go spinning and spinning and spinning into his own decline.
Imperceptible the change as one by one our voices falter
and the double standards of propaganda
still all our righteous rage.
By this we are all sustained: our belief in human nature.
But our faith diminishes - close to the finish,
we're only serfs and slaves
as the empire decays. Смотрите также: | |
