Авторы: Ian Anderson, Peter-John Vettese
In and out of shady places -- walking on cold corners of the maze. Following the trace you leave unwittingly. I wanna be no Saboteur. Oh, no, me no Saboteur. Painted ducks across your landscape -- happy in your domesticity (It don't come free). Misfortune, like a Sparrow Hawk, hangs over you. Wanna be no Saboteur. Deepest regrets I humbly offer you as I cut into your life. With clean precision, all is simplified -- pass the hat and pass the knife. By now you must be worried, wondering who is me and what lies behind my art. I'm only removing broken sea-shells from the beach -- Oh, no, me no Saboteur. There's at least one of me inside your ranks in your factory or school. I anticipate a cleansing opportunity to take the horns by the bull. History forever writing pages to be cut or painted grey, or celebrated like Jesus in his temple rage as he chased the money-men away. I wanna be no Saboteur. Be no, be no Saboteur.