Bow to your masters sell your soul
You’re food for the wicked who love to control
You fall to your knees like a weak scared child
Pathological slave debunked and beguiled.
You believe in the state and the criminal crown
You wriggle like bait then obey and lie down
You scream like a baby and wave your flags
You give them your money and dress in your rags.
The pomp and the glory the incredible lies
The vacuous story the unscrupulous ties
The con and the gory the shame and the cries
The cruel and the phony and the evil disguise.
A German reminder Berlin the Third Reich
A benevolent myth a deceitful contrite
A wreck from the past full of darkness and spite
Abused and confused and detained from the light.
Your royal your highness my master I crave
Your guidance and approval I yearn to be saved
I worship your greatness your bloodline so pure
I kneel at your feet I beg for your cure.
Will you ever engage a mere mortal like me
I’m nothing I’m worthless not fit to be free
They say you are godlike with mystical charm
Blessed by the angels sworn and re-born.
Your palaces burst with incredible art
You’re skilled and well-versed, so clever and smart
You travel around in your golden coach
Impressing your slaves immune from reproach.
All the land and wealth and the power you hold
Has been taken from the workers
And the subjects you control
Your army of loyal soldiers in red and black
Will no longer be willing to defend your back.
The revolution is near for there is no doubt
The people will revolt, you’d better watch out
You’ve been here too long like a clinging virus
You can fool us no more, Your Royal Highness!
© Kelvin Rush