Banish the old regime A laugh, a cry, a scream Mark your fall and the way you sing Huddle with your civic ring Hail glorious followers Your day is come As our brothers so demonstrated The rights we have for waited Sing us a song We can all sing along We We will make it I swear Thank you my men And away! Retire to my chamber Driver, Liberty is weeping Won Honest men who think nothing Of a few distortions and lies A slow tear he cries The shock of this man is enough to break The will of a thousand good men Tied to the stake A nation remembers and questions
Few would stand that storm of retrospect But those that did, the champions elect Would soon go down, down to market-town With the screams of the innocent and the dead Follow me, follow me, down, down, down Won Follow me; follow me, down, down, down Won Lies and d**h The return of a tyrant to his rightful place Folk of the Land, I urge you Rise up, rise up, then burn it back down again Take one last look at the wealth that abounds Then turn your back And raze it to the ground Build his palace higher And raze it to the ground