Πατρίδα [Patrída] [English translation]

So, the crowd is angry like a boiling cauldron

Like dripping blood, like murky sweat

We sometimes laugh, we sometimes lounge around

And as we laugh it looks like the weather is getting sweeter.

But when I'm watching the news at night

I know they got nothing new to tell me

I was in the fire, I was in the fire

I saw the end with eyes wide open

I saw war's face, the "race" and the "breed*1"

Betrayed from within, from the most patriots

Having my mother as a prisoner with the gun in the mouth

Their children are ''decorating'' the parliament today

Under a table, it's all coming back to me now

With a mug full of grapes on the bombing time

I saw thousands of parachutes in the sky, like stains

My father was talking to me, to keep me from being scared

"Look how nicely they're falling down!

How nicely they're falling down..."

I saw orphan parents, an old man from Smyrni*2

At Drama*3 as a refugee, killed by a Bulgarian bullet

and another one, a Cyprian fugitive at the black -back then- London

On his 27 was cut in two by Nazi

I saw a half Nicosia, a sinked Serbia

At Belgrade, a ghost in an empty room

American bombs and I was sleeping

Tomorrow we will celebrating at the squares

I saw pieces of flesh in the debris of a city

I saw the arms, the legs discarded on the ground

I saw them running in the street, holding their children

And I was a tourist with video and camera

Here, in this ugly city, which is holding back by necessity

A ravaged nations is asking for medals of dope

Olympic games and the country a funeral home

I'm gonna ask you to forgive me for raising you up here

I've seen the cops laughing and at Omonoia*4

Throwing tear gas at a fire truck

Holy icons at the window, people like candles

And the TV networks are turning away the attention

And I saw uprooted people crossing the line

For a cheap whore or casinos and cigars

Anyhow, our poor faith is confused

Solomos*5 in Armani and open heart

I don't want myself to be my land

I know that if everything was like me, the earth wouldn't be born

The monster doesn't scare me, nor my angel

Nor the end of the world, you are the one that scares me

You still scare me, follower of the soccer team

Dog of the political party, bully of the organization

Interpreter of God, guru clergyman

Created Tsolia*6, lost scout

You're praying and you kill, you splutter anthems of rage

You have fear as your homeland, you're looking for parents

You hate the stranger within you and no, I don't understand

I don't know where I'm standing and where I'm going