Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Revenge , by - Rebellion. Song from the album Shakespeare's Macbeth, in the genre Эпический металRelease date: 31.12.2014
Record label: Drakkar Entertainment
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Revenge , by - Rebellion. Song from the album Shakespeare's Macbeth, in the genre Эпический металRevenge |
| Macduff |
| Who are you |
| Once you were loyal |
| Once you were true |
| Run to England |
| To stand against me |
| I will burn your castle |
| I will slay, your family |
| How can I be loyal |
| To a murderer that stole the crown |
| How can I be loyal |
| To a tvrant |
| That takes my country down |
| We’ll take revenge for all the lives you stole — |
| Macbeth |
| The sins you did in the end you’ll fall — |
| Macbeth |
| We’ll take revenge and put you down, in the |
| End we’ll seize the crown |
| I’ll take revenge for all the lives you stole — |
| Macbeth |
| Macduff |
| Look and see |
| Here are the bloody corpses |
| Of your family |
| Burried dead |
| In a nameless grave |
| My lust for blood |
| Will make me safe |
| I’ve cried a thousand tears |
| In the shadows of the lonely night |
| As the tears run dry |
| You tyrant |
| I know that I must fight |
| Lo you, here she comes. |
| This is her very guise, and, upon my life, fast asleep. |
| Observe her. |
| Stand close |
| You see her eyes are open |
| Ay, but their sense are shut |
| What is it she does now? |
| Look how she rubs her hands |
| It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands. |
| I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour |
| Yet here’s a spot. |
| Out, damned spot; |
| out, I say. |
| Hell is murky. |
| Fie, my lord, |
| fie, a soldier and afeard? |
| What need we fear who knows it when none can call |
| our power to account? |
| Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so |
| much blood in him? |
| … Macduff the Thane of Fife had a wife. |
| Where is she now? |
| What, will these hands ne’er be clean? |
| No more o' that, my lord, |
| no more o' that. |
| No more |
| What a sigh is there! |
| The heart is sorely charged |
| I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body |
| Wash your hands, put on your nightgown, look not so pale. |
| I tell you yet again, |
| Banquo’s buried. |
| He cannot come out on 's grave. |
| To bed, to bed. |
| There’s a knocking at the gate. |
| Come, give me your hand. |
| What’s done cannot be |
| undone. |
| To bed, to bed, to bed |
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