Ηλεκτρικός Θησέας [Ilektrikos Thiseas] [English translation]

There hasn't been a boat with a white flag since '50

and you were stuck at the port with flowers that are withered.

Electric Thiseas in a well and Ariadne has shut her mouth

Electric Thiseas in a well and Ariadne has shut her mouth.

You were cursed to waste your years on a life with no perspective.

You are lost like a seagull at Omonia and when you are looking for the answer in escape,

you pay the tolls and becoming pieces on the national road.

Electric Thiseas in a well and Ariadne has shut her mouth.

Who is a lifer in the dark who is panicked without a payment?

Who turns the head down on the bosses and who cries like a child at night?

Who dreams that some others are going out and making the start?

Electric Thiseas in a well and Ariadne has shut her mouth.

Dreams' shipwrecks sail and heads are filled with rust.

At super markets hope is gone and you stood petrified at the scaffolding.

Where have the 300 of Leonidas gone and what are we gonna tell our kids?

Electric Thiseas? Etc.

You're afraid that there's a storm coming and that acid rain will choke us,

put in a glass your home country and hide it well inside the earth.

Are they searching for it like Atlantis since Pandora has opened the box?

Electric Thiseas in a well and Ariadne is confused.

Canvassing, reasons and marches never brought the change

that's why you were lost at the stadiums on Sunday.

Now as you look at the refineries you're asking who has put you in the cage.

Electric Thiseas in a well and Ariadne has gone mad.

You want to close a deadly wound and you're searching for a job on the "News".

Your tears are turning into whips and tighten your neck like a rope.

Everything you have won with martyrdoms are now bid on card games again,

you run to search among the shelters and you find a trapped generation.

You waved a plastic flag, you believed in an unknown god

you hanged the brain in news series and rock gum.

And how will another day dawn when mistakes are stealing time?

And how will another day dawn when lie is bringing the sharade?

Paint a sun on the ceiling, talk with the night's breeze

and dance with your shadow on the sounds of a weak heart.

Call your loneliness or go again on the road of fire

call your loneliness or go again on the road of fire.

• Artist:Pavlos Sidiropoulos
• Album:Τολμηρή επικοινωνία (1987)