Official Music Video
Bastille Day by Rush
Lyrics & Translation
English
Ooh, there's no bread, let 'em eat cake
There's no end to what they'll take
Flaunt the fruits of noble birth
Wash the salt into the earth
But they're marching to Bastille Day
The guillotine will claim her bloody prize
Free the dungeons of the innocent
The king will kneel and let his kingdom rise
Ooh, bloodstained velvet, dirty lace
Naked fear on every face
See them bow their heads to die
As we would bow when they rode by
And we're marching to Bastille Day
The guillotine will claim her bloody prize
Sing, oh choirs of cacophony
The king has kneeled to let his kingdom rise
Lessons taught but never learned
All around us, anger burns
Guide the future by the past
Long ago the mould was cast
For they marched up to Bastille Day
The guillotine claimed her bloody prize
Hear the echoes of the centuries
Power isn't all that money buys
Oh!
Spanish translations are provided by the LyricVerse team.
Spanish translation of Bastille Day by Rush
Bastille Day* (original Rush)
Ooh, there's no bread, let 'em eat cake
There's no end to what they'll take
Flaunt the fruits of noble birth
Wash the salt into the earth
But they're marching to Bastille Day
The guillotine will claim her bloody prize
Free the dungeons of the innocent
The king will kneel and let his kingdom rise
Ooh, bloodstained velvet, dirty lace
Naked fear on every face
See them bow their heads to die
As we would bow when they rode by
And we're marching to Bastille Day
The guillotine will claim her bloody prize
Sing, oh choirs of cacophony
The king has kneeled to let his kingdom rise
Lessons taught but never learned
All around us, anger burns
Guide the future by the past
Long ago the mould was cast
For they marched up to Bastille Day
The guillotine claimed her bloody prize
Hear the echoes of the centuries
Power isn't all that money buys
Oh!
Bastille Day (traducción LyricVerse Team)
Ooh, no hay pan, que coman pastel
No hay fin a lo que tomarán
Alardean los frutos de noble cuna
Lavan la sal en la tierra
Pero marchan hacia el Día de la Bastilla
La guillotina reclamará su sangriento premio
Liberen las mazmorras de los inocentes
El rey se arrodillará y dejará que su reino se alce
Ooh, terciopelo manchado de sangre, encaje sucio
Miedo desnudo en cada rostro
Véanlos inclinar sus cabezas para morir
Como nos inclinaríamos cuando pasaban
Y marchamos hacia el Día de la Bastilla
La guillotina reclamará su sangriento premio
Canten, oh coros de cacofonía
El rey se ha arrodillado para dejar que su reino se alce
Lecciones enseñadas pero nunca aprendidas
A nuestro alrededor, la ira arde
Guíen el futuro por el pasado
Hace mucho tiempo el molde fue echado
Pues marcharon hacia el Día de la Bastilla
La guillotina reclamó su sangriento premio
Escuchen los ecos de los siglos
El poder no es todo lo que el dinero compra
¡Oh!
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