Roger Waters - The Grievances of the People | Текст песни

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• Roger Waters
• The Grievances of the People

Scene 3:

The Grievances of the People

It is now the very eve of the revolution. The Priest sits at a table at which a number of forlorn and hungry citizens are lined up. He is writing their grievances into a ledger, one of the Cahiers de Doleances established by the King for the election of the Estates General in 1789. The grievances for the most part, and certainly those of these ordinary citizens, go unregarded: the King and Queen watch the proceedings with barely concealed disdain from the royal box in the circus audience. Preoccupied, they pick at the culinary delicacies arrayed before them. The Ringmaster describes conditions in France, points to the King’s neglect and lack of concern, and reveals that the country is broke. The state, no longer able to pay its way, has cut off all payments to its agents and institutions. The bishops, so the Priest proclaims, have been hiding and hoarding grain. Ragged children distribute pamphlets, and issue appeals but no one in authority either reads, listens, or cares. We learn from the Priest that in the town of Manosque several bishops have been stoned to death, and the bakeries plundered. These are the unmistakable gestures of liberation, brutal and hardly rational as yet, but genuine and courageous nevertheless.

RINGMASTER
The sparrow, bedraggled, looks up through the rain
And dreams of a little more grain
The peacock, plump in his place in the sun
Ignores the sound of the distant guns
Their thunder falls upon deaf ears
The peacock never sniffs the air
He fails to see that a starvation diet brings
The scent of riot on the breeze
The King; The State; La France
Each of the above must with regret cut off all payment
The cupboard is bare
The State of France lies in disrepair

REVOLUTIONARY PRIEST
The Bishops hide the grain; to the attics it’s sent
If everyone is hungry, tell me, who can be content

SOLO BOY
Altogether now!

CHILDRENS CHORUS
We hand out pamphlets, we join a club
We shout out slogans, that we make up
We thumb our noses, at those above
We hand out pamphlets, we join a club

TROUBLEMAKER
We join a club, a safety net
But it’s more like a gin trap that’s been carefully set

REVOLUTIONARY PRIEST

We write what we can on the cow’s flayed hide
Our grievances are noted and then brushed to one side
But the pain we feel keeps us alive

TROUBLEMAKER
Bushes and bones and stick and stones

CHORUS
Now, then, women and men

REVOLUTIONARY PRIEST
In Manosque, the bishops get what they deserve
Stoned to death and we retrieve the grain from their reserves

FEMALE CHORUS
We plunder all the bakeries

CHORUS
Searching for our courage in...

MALE CHORUS

Searching for our courage in...

REVOLUTIONARY PRIEST
Searching for our courage in...

RINGMASTER & MARIE MARIANNE
...this folly