[[Title: The Puppets of the Power - Leonardo da Vinci, Part 3]

gypsy jazz, swing, cabaret/vaudeville, manouche

+ Show full styles

V5.5

[Title: The Puppets of the Power - Leonardo da Vinci, Part 3]

[Verse 1]
Milan fell to pieces when the foreign armies came,
The duke was locked away and they forgot his empty name.
But the bishops and the new governors immediately shook hands,
To split the dreamer's notebooks over all the conquered lands.
The French court and the Roman chairs forgot their fake debate,
To register the blueprints in the archives of the state.
They didn't care about the art or what the spirit meant,
They only mapped the layouts for their own aggrandizement.

[Verse 2]
He fled into the mountains with his papers in his chest,
A weary, aging traveler who only sought some rest.
He took the gold from kings who promised shelter from the storm,
But every coin he accepted wore a legal, binding form.
Whether it’s a president, a miter, or a king,
The moment you accept their wealth, they attach a hidden string.
The local rulers and the church were dancing as a pair,
Enforcing corporate routines upon the public square.

[Verse 3]
They placed his final paintings in their dark, imperial halls,
Behind the heavy curtains and the barricaded walls.
The common people on the ground were barred outside the gate,
While unsworn politicians signed the ledgers of the state.
No automated signature could wash away the stain,
Of how they turned his peaceful mind into a cage of pain.
They wanted all his geometry to regulate the crowd,
But the living soul of Leonardo remains completely unbowed!

[Chorus]
The puppet theater is truly closing now,
the curtain falls and they stand exposed,
No more strings and no more crowns,
We watch with our Hands raised high,
And see them standing in the full light...
And they never acted like that again,
and they never acted like that again.

Born in Freedom,
And in Freedom,
we will live on ..

[Outro]
The ink is drying on the page, the courts are turn to dust,
The manufactured empires will crumble and will rust.
My body is a temple, pure from the very start,
And no wooden master commands this living heart.
Born in Freedom,
And in Freedom,
we will live on ..

2077/7500

[Title: The Puppets of the Power - Leonardo da Vinci, Part 3] [Verse 1] Milan fell to pieces when the foreign armies came, The duke was locked away and they forgot his empty name. But the bishops and the new governors immediately shook hands, To split the dreamer's notebooks over all the conquered lands. The French court and the Roman chairs forgot their fake debate, To register the blueprints in the archives of the state. They didn't care about the art or what the spirit meant, They only mapped the layouts for their own aggrandizement. [Verse 2] He fled into the mountains with his papers in his chest, A weary, aging traveler who only sought some rest. He took the gold from kings who promised shelter from the storm, But every coin he accepted wore a legal, binding form. Whether it’s a president, a miter, or a king, The moment you accept their wealth, they attach a hidden string. The local rulers and the church were dancing as a pair, Enforcing corporate routines upon the public square. [Verse 3] They placed his final paintings in their dark, imperial halls, Behind the heavy curtains and the barricaded walls. The common people on the ground were barred outside the gate, While unsworn politicians signed the ledgers of the state. No automated signature could wash away the stain, Of how they turned his peaceful mind into a cage of pain. They wanted all his geometry to regulate the crowd, But the living soul of Leonardo remains completely unbowed! [Chorus] The puppet theater is truly closing now, the curtain falls and they stand exposed, No more strings and no more crowns, We watch with our Hands raised high, And see them standing in the full light... And they never acted like that again, and they never acted like that again. Born in Freedom, And in Freedom, we will live on .. [Outro] The ink is drying on the page, the courts are turn to dust, The manufactured empires will crumble and will rust. My body is a temple, pure from the very start, And no wooden master commands this living heart. Born in Freedom, And in Freedom, we will live on ..

0/500