Under Iron Feet - The Flying Eyes

We play with paper dolls and

Make the people get down and crawl

Smile with uneasy hatred

And catch the fruit when the tree is shaken

Suck the juice until the skin is grey

Call us the masters of this place

We are the living whose lives are taken

Our voices dead and our families broken

We collapse into the street

They tell us «Paradise under iron feet»

«Love your master and God will love you to.»

Call us the slaves of this…