Take your fancy potions and your royal old wives
|
Tell the ale-house braves they better run for their lives
|
Have you seen the children with the blood on their hands?
|
Have you heard about the terror spreading through the land?
|
'Cos the god you pray to sees the sinners and saints
|
But he doesn't give a damn about the people he taints
|
|
See the hounds of Fleet Street in their tatters and rags
|
Selling false premonitions for a penny a bag
|
All the lords and ladies with their diamonds and pearls
|
Throwing stones in glass houses, not a care in the world
|
Take your fancy crystals and your fossilised bone
|
Tell the ale-house braves the devil's gauntlet is thrown
|
|
Belly full of whiskey and a pocket full of rope
|
No fear in dying when you've lost your only hope
|
The searchers round on you before your final breath
|
Essence of life surrenders in the face of death
|
|
Adverse repulsion seems to drive you to the grave
|
No hearts on fire can persuade you to be saved
|
Blood-sucking leeches have grown bigger in the sun
|
The roses on the stone tell what you have become
|
|
Take your fancy potions and your royal old wives
|
Tell the ale-house braves they better pray for their lives
|
|
-----------------
|
The Ale House Braves
|
| Orange Goblin |
