Den of Snakes:
A hall of white painted red
A thrown built by the children
A blood crown for a false king
Raised by a hill of the dead
Mountains of gold as we starve
As they feast in their towers
Bounded by gates they deny us
All our faith they devour
Praise be to God
For we are all his bastards
A sword pierces our flesh
As we are pushed to the gallows
We will hang for his sins
As he grins in the den of snakes
Praise be to God
For we are all his bastards
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