Rome never looks Where she treads Always her heavy Hooves fall
On our bellies, our hearts And our heads Rome never heeds When we brawl
Her sentries pass By and that is all And we gather behind them In hordes
And plot to reconquer The Wall With only our tongues As our swords
We are the Little Folk We Too little To love or to hate
Leave us alone And you'll see How fast we can Drag down the State
We are the Worm in the wood We are the Rot at the root
We are the Taint in the blood We are the Thorn in the foot
Mistletoe Killing an oak Rats gnawing cables In two
Moths making holes In a cloak How they must love What they do
Yes and we Little Folk too We are as busy As they
Working our works Out of view Watch, and You'll see it some day
We are the Little Folk We Too little To love or to hate
Leave us alone And you'll see How fast we can Drag down the State
We are the Worm in the wood We are the Rot at the root
We are the Taint in the blood We are the Thorn in the foot
No indeed We are not strong But we know Peoples who are
Yes, and we'll guide them along To smash and destroy you in War
We shall be slaves just the same when have we never been slaves But you--you will die of the shame And then we shall Dance on your gravesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
