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Ringmaster:The sparrow, bedraggled, looks up through the rainAnd dreams of a little more grainThe peacock, plump in his place in the sunIgnores the sound of the distant gunsTheir thunder falls upon deaf earsThe peacock never sniffs the airHe fails to see that a starvation diet bringsThe scent of riot on the breezeThe King; The State; La FranceEach of the above must with regret cut off all paymentThe cupboard is bareThe State of France lies in disrepairRevolutionary Priest:The Bishops hide the grain; to the attics it's sentIf everyone is hungry, tell me, who can be content?Children's Choir:We hand out pamphlets, we join a clubWe shout out slogans that we make upWe thumb our noses, at those aboveWe hand out pamphlets, we join a clubTroublemaker:We join a club, a safety netLetras de cancionesBut it's more like a gin trap that's been carefully setRevolutionary Priest:We write what we can on the cow's flayed hideOur grievances are noted and then brushed to one sideBut the pain we feel keeps us aliveTroublemaker & Chorus:Bushes and bones and sticks and stonesNow, the, women and menRevolutionary Priest:In Manosque the bishops get what they deserveStoned to death and we retrieve the grain from their reservesChorus:Searching for courage in...This folly From Letras Mania