| Nation time, the party day
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| And all that come to display the colours that make them like the others
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| The brothers and sisters come to wish the tyrant well
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| And dance around the wishing well
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| The well-wishers forget the cuts that were so vicious
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| At one day only banquets so delicious
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| They trade it in for the quiet of afterlife
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| It’s their children that will feel the carver’s knife
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| Of emperor’s that they revelled for
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| Leave it to them to settle the score, what’s more human than that?
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| Never look back, never look forward
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| Never forget the rule of law is so important
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| They protect us from the hordes at the gates
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| And they define us with their borders and states
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| Look through the grates down at the castle wall
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| And ask yourself if you’re prepared to be the last to fall
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| In defence of the crown that you will never hold
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| That makes martyrs of sons who never grow old
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| Come wave your pretty flags in the air
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| Come and make peace in the dragon’s lair
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| Each house put up red ribbons, and then cook great feasts all week
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| Children stirred, pilgrims returned
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| Quilts sewn all for his throne
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| The pallet (?) that he pockets, tax nonsense (?)
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| Someone is still taking kickbacks in
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| Where’s your ribbon? |
| Is it hidden? |
| Get it up
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| How you gonna show the king you love
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| Look through the bloodstained glass
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| Commoner, you simpleton, you arse (ask???)
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| Never asked, only bowed to the great lords
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| Subordinate of the great sword
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| While you quarrel on immoral excursions
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| All the kings men murder
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| And the Empire cries «Oh for freedom! |
| Lead on»
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| Come wave your pretty flags in the air
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| Come and make peace in the dragon’s lair
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| Come wave your pretty flags in the air
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| Come and make peace in the dragon’s lair
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| Come prepare your penance and presence for his procession
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| With dishes of dispossession and whispers of sedition
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| Each and everyone must show respect
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| Fail to do so on the pain of death
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| A stain of shame, acknowledge his reign and swallow our pride
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| Another one cursing his name and a pox on his line
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| A watchman’s sign of writer’s symbols
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| Here’s a rival, fly a ribbon red for sure
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| Survival swine who murdered and pillaged and burned
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| Ruined our village, will refuse to serve
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| Instead we’ll choose to turn and purge this vile scourge
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| Notes been broken by the beast that burned
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| Cast the burden from the castle gates
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| Storm the barricades and take the tyrant from the tower
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| People rise, the time is now to
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| Claim your place in this, our nation’s finest hour |