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I was told to march Armed with my beliefs Not a soul will stand Between me and my hunt for thieves All the while you sit on your horned throne and please Only yourself with puppets of greed Oh sweet Contortionist, your act plays no part In this grand scheme of ending means And when the voices begin to gather All will come gather 'round together And we will sharpen our knives, our tongues, our minds We will win this war We will win this war we wage Our misery will be lifted with the end of a bounty All our wounds mended with angels in harmony All our fears melted away at the sight of our history And our name will be one with No pain, no suffering, lifted up on the throne of victory Until the day I die I’ll make sure that our fears left behind us are left with your name And when the violence of producers meet I’ll be sure that you’re left weeping at our feet.
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