Lyrics The Barbarians - Greta Van Fleet

The Barbarians

Children with their toys of war, whoa-oh
Birthright of death with a fiery breath
Funeral of any sense, oh-whoa
Painted up in the red and dressed in lead, we are
Are we prisoners or renegades?
Well, I've done my time, whoa-oh
Behold visions of burning skies
Alas Babylon, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Mothers of barbarians, oh-whoa
Were your young so spry when they left to die?
We are
Are we prisoners or renegades?
Well, I've done my time, whoa-oh
Behold visions of burning skies
Alas Babylon, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Are we prisoners or renegades?
Well, I've done my time, whoa-oh
Behold visions of burning skies
Alas Babylon, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa