See how the king sits upon his throne
And judges only by race?
What complexed tone
And such shy haste,
As yet outside,
The battle roams,
Our soldier's never hide,
Only dream of home.
See how the king sneers,
At every battle lost
And jeers,
At every life it cost?
Those who couldn't be saved,
Now lie in hero graves.
"The queen is dead,"
The king said,
With a knife in hand,
"I'll die on my own land."
The king falls
And we may rejoice,
Once and for all,
There really was no other choice.
And judges only by race?
What complexed tone
And such shy haste,
As yet outside,
The battle roams,
Our soldier's never hide,
Only dream of home.
See how the king sneers,
At every battle lost
And jeers,
At every life it cost?
Those who couldn't be saved,
Now lie in hero graves.
"The queen is dead,"
The king said,
With a knife in hand,
"I'll die on my own land."
The king falls
And we may rejoice,
Once and for all,
There really was no other choice.

