| Washing the blood off the pedestals
|
| Drunk with liquor and songs
|
| All icons shattered and none replaced
|
| For we were all fooled and wronged
|
| And serpent’s milk on blackened stone
|
| This sand betrayed
|
| You whets your dagger
|
| On the plunderer’s lips
|
| Now sharpen the blades
|
| Sharpen the nails
|
| Little rebel mine, rebel mine
|
| I hope you will come with me
|
| I hope you will fight
|
| Little rebel mine, rebel mine
|
| I hope you will come with me
|
| I hope you will fight
|
| Now fear spreads over the roofs
|
| And on down the valleys
|
| And what strange birds cruise here
|
| Now that there’s blood on the branches
|
| And serpent’s milk on blackened stone
|
| This sand betrayed
|
| You whets your dagger
|
| On the plunderer’s lips
|
| Now sharpen the blades
|
| Sharpen the nails
|
| Little rebel mine, rebel mine
|
| I hope you will come with me
|
| I hope you will fight
|
| Little rebel mine, rebel mine
|
| I hope you will come with me
|
| I hope you will fight
|
| Little rebel mine, rebel mine
|
| I hope you will come with me
|
| I hope you will fight
|
| Little rebel mine, rebel mine
|
| I hope you will come with me
|
| I hope you will fight |