Under the parasol, the magistrate sings the madrigal
And shields his face
From the man who sells his madness by way of the gun
----Outside the manor yard on the crippled street
Young girl sell their bodies for bread to eat
Stare the corner down and say so we meet again

But somewhere the people rise and break out in song
Their voices are carrying them,
And I would but the feet on my souls are gone
From the night they came in
They came in truck with their iron wrath
Driving this country to its dying breath
But it's never enough for the tyrant and his cattle

Let it go x6

And there he sits, the self crowned king
In his bird bath, just rearranging his things
When he hears the songs high over head
He glares at the sky I his disbelief
Throws a fit and splashes the bath empty
And orders his generals to aim higher

Let it go x6