Lyrics to the Azdak
songs, by Mark Nichols and Brecht
SINGER AND CHORUS
When wisdom burned to ashes
And blood ran down the street
And rats poured from the gutters
And maggots soured the meat
When towns were set on fire
And the river of blood rose higher
And Cockroaches crawled out of every crack,
You'd kill your only friend for little Bric a brac
And the courts overflowed with schemers
And the church was made of blasphemers
Your son begged food from the lowliest poor
Your wife became a festering whore
And The Only one on the level
Is the man up there on the bench…
Who can it be? Who can it be?
Azdak!
#32 AZDAK PART 2
(CUE: "Next Cases!)
Men won't do much for a shilling
But for a pound they might be willing
20 pounds and it's in the sack
50 pounds and he won't be back
As for those without out a penny
As for those without a horse
They've got only one recourse
A lone and honest legal force
Who can it be? Who can it be?
Azdak!
#33 AZDAK PART 3
Cue: "So the court can inspect the scene of the crime.")
All mankind should love each other
But bring an ax when you talk to your brother
What miracles of preaching
A good sharp blade can do
His honor of the high court knew
And understood it too!
When the sharks the sharks devour
Little fish will have their hour
Tis fishy to fix the scales of power
Thankfully, he's in the ivory tower
The poor man's magistrate…
Who's the man to seal your fate
The one, the only potentate
Who's the wise? Who's the great?
Who Can it be? Who can it be?
Azdak!
He gives to the forsaken
All the riches from the rich that he hath taken
Good and evil man he,
Smiled up on Grusinia's Granny
Our man's Neither mamby,
Nor is our man pamby
Justice for nothing, mercy for free
Give it to the poor, give it to me
Who can it be? Who can it be?
Azdak!
#36 AZDAK PART 4
The drowning, he did save them
Broken laws like breath he gave them
justice to the poor and lowly
Like an angel, not so holy
Swim them all to the shore on his tired, crooked back
For two years 'twas his pleasure
Give the beasts of prey his measure
From the forests to the hallows
He could smell the dung from the gallows
In the use of the noose he was never slack
Like a cornered wolf he would take on the pack
The only one with the point
Is the man sitting there on the tack
Who can it be? Who can it be?... Azdak.
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