Shiny minstrels of worn out time
look down upon you and me
sing their praise of a time long gone
when freedom meant more than life
Kings would hold on to all Gods given
the swords and armour bright
Ground would shake below his feet
the day of the freedom call
And it's all in the way that every king must fall
And it's all in the way all good men must go
King is afraid to lose the grip
he's tired and not so well
He'll walk all night on shaky ground
and dine with the dogs of hell.
A single whisper will crack the wall
a song is a wrecking ball
Lost in the vortex of friend and foe
a solitaire in his home
And it's all in the way that every king must fall
and it's all in the way all good men must go