racing death, survive no more a hungry mob armed with pitchforks band of theives kill for sport steal your gold rob your corpse kill your horse no remorse cut your body into fourths throw the pieces in the well
death will find you either day or night, not worth the fight he's always right your time is nigh you cannot avoid his all seeing eye, it's time to die he's always right your time is nigh creeping hiding with his trusty scythe, it's razor sharp he'll find you in the dark you have no options your life is done
rancid meat all there is to eat meanwhile the elite get to gorge on a feast the fat king stuffs his face in his keep while the serfs in the field die at his feet the fat monarch chokes on a bone a fight for the throne and the crops that were grown death is certain for all those who liveTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.