Pretorijanska garda [English translation]

The Praetorian Guard, once a powerful legion

Now a pile of pigs, listen to me carefully

CHORUS. *Bona mors for me, I leave without a farewell

The Praetorian Guard chase me at night

I hear the clip-clop of hooves pulling chariots of war

The story of a bard leaning on the pavement

As a rule the police bully the innocent

While the rich enrich themselves outside of legal boundaries

Who's lobbying there!? It's like a scene from a horror film

When the baton got to work the body was like lead

At the service of the master, the Praetorian Guard

Make sure that free hands are bloody to the elbows

But where are the rights for a wrongdoer without a guard?

The brigade laments, the crowbar brigade plays

Hematomata, bruises, we count them like medals

Recurring consequences come with the years

Because he who has a monopoly can do whatever he likes

The police dealers multiply on the streets

What's that archive hiding? It will be an eternal enigma

Buried lies, a deal, a fixed match

Incriminating evidence poured out at an investigation

Revision of a crime based on an impossible assumption

The kids sniff out the heroin, their nose is full, so is their budget

Their idol is Tesla, he found electricity with which they torture

He pulls armour over you so there's no trace of a beating

He forgets at the hearings, it's all in the bounds of service

Bloody accusations, necessary measures tailored for you

Citizens' rights are measured by the system which fucks you

Be it the *DB, the fucking BIA or just a common copper

They break you the same, the back of your neck hurts the same

Only envelopes appeal to them because they arrange the letters

Your lie has failed and the honourable judge is kind

The lawyer agrees with everything so the cops don't break you

You leave as a gentleman, the court has freed you

You're disgusted by money, but sometimes it talks

You save the possibility so the trolls might respect you

Uniformed oxen, the shepherds came down from the hills

The inspectors are even worse, junkies from the *fourth

In a murderous frenzy they work the windows of roofs

Well he who doesn't tattle gets secretly taken to a grave

Those you take with you will be dropped off in a drawer

So you tell your children why illnesses torture them

Or to bite their tongue because that's how you'll survive

Lubricate before fucking, let the pig get greasy

CHORUS. Bona mors for me, I leave without a farewell

The Praetorian Guard chase me at night

I hear the clip-clop of hooves pulling chariots of war

The story of a bard leaning on the pavement

Bona mors for me, I leave without a farewell

The Praetorian Guard chase me at night

I hear the clip-clop of hooves pulling chariots of war

The story of a bard on the pavement

The Praetorian Guard rules from behind the scenes

Through rat-filled sewers below the eternal city

And still no one knows beneath whose paw they fall

For many generations that will strictly be a secret

They killed Caesar because he wanted to restrain them

He who isn't their servant quickly vanishes from the road

Because their arrests are wherever balls are

For dirty work they always find a Brutus

It's all *panta rhei, only there's always a duty

To kill and torture in all forms of community

Their name isn't important nor what the constitution says

When you hear footsteps of troops, be aware that you're dead

CHORUS [x2]. Bona mors for me, I leave without a farewell

The Praetorian Guard chase me at night

I hear the clip-clop of hooves pulling chariots of war

The story of a bard leaning on the pavement

First of all, the opening of the dossier

Its main goal

Is for the citizens who were victims

To be enabled to see what they all

Hence, missed out on in life

Just because they thought differently

And were free to perform the human right

To freedom of expression, they said something

That wasn't desired by this or that government

The security of the citizens of this country

I today legally compromised from within

Economically, socially, politically

They have realised what they wanted

They have won, we have been defeated

Parties control the secret service

The key things are sometimes in code

CHORUS [x2]. Bona mors for me, I leave without a farewell

The Praetorian Guard chase me at night

I hear the clip-clop of hooves pulling chariots of war

The story of a bard leaning on the pavement

• Artist:Beogradski Sindikat
• Album:Oni su