Yeah.
You can hear distant voices expressing their opinions.
Voices from other dimensions,
that fall in the morning.
Don't worry, don't give in.
To that strange glow,
you can feel the encouragement.
It won't be alarmists,
but there are a couple of Marxists
on a flying saucer.
They are good people, they swear to me.
And they clarify that those green men,
men and women,
no more than a meter high,
enjoy a lot of culture and a deep altruism.
Be careful, it's not the same.
Re-claim any goal.
They come from a planet where trotskyism has triumphed.
For the bright beings, in that spaceship,
read a lot of Capital.
It's obvious that they are studious.
Extraterrestrial things, small and intelligent,
never come out of nowhere,
never to much universe.
They ask for the universe.
Permanent revolution.
On their planet, there is no capitalist.
There are no Stalinists left.
If the people are so happy,
good people,
what they try to transmit to this song,
is the deep emotion of knowing that there is no more evil.
The fourth international,
in the fifth dimension.
Calm, nothing happens.
They are not poor couples.
Read in a proletarian voice.
There are comrade-in-arms.
The least thought things,
without any priority,
ask.
The consequences don't measure.
Of course, what a tender thing.
In many internal lines, each so much is divided.
For the bright beings, in that spaceship,
read a lot of Capital.
It's obvious that they are studious.
Extraterrestrial things,
small and intelligent,
never come out of nowhere,
never to much universe.
They ask for the universe.
Permanent revolution.