Album: Metazoa
Liberte
Egalite
Fraternite
Queeles belles idees
La tyrannie du peuple
He once fed the scaffold
On revolution square
But now the crowds cackle
At his skull shaved bare
At his shirt torn and bloody
From the bullet in his jaw
At his hands worn and muddy
From years burying the law
The reign of terror
Will fade into lore
With the king of errors
Head on the floor
Uneasy lies the head
That wears the crown
They called him «incorruptible»
The prince of anarchy
But all men grow tryannical
At the reins of liberty
The guillotine is power
It’s steel depicts rage
Blood rains down in showers
When democracy’s a cage
The reign of tower
Will fade into lore
With the king of errors
Head on the floor
Uneasy lies the head
That wears the crown
He tries to speak his final words
But his mouth drips off its hinge
The flesh, ravaged by the birds
Makes even soldiers cringe
On a plank his body’s laid
The wood dampened by his fear
The lever’s pulled, a falling blade
And all the people cheered