In the chaos of his lyrical flights
The man drinks and speaks at the same time
But in the fire of his demanding instincts
His hands frolic alone, nostalgic
His hands frolic alone , nostalgic
In the warmth of patriotic love
The brave man fights at point blank range
But sheltered from the noise of the world however
He is a pathetic little fearful
He is a pathetic little fearful man
On the stage of his dramatic century
The man agitates and runs in the wind
But deep down what does he have to more than a child
Who remains silent in the depths of his panics
Who remains silent in the depths of his panics

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