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Rumpelstiltskin Grinder
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Let The Fools Cheer
Lyricist:Patrick Battaglia, Ryan Geoffrey Moll, Matthew Moore, Shawn Josef Riley, Stephen Elias Shaika
When prophecies speak of victory There is still a need to fear May the gluttons fill their plates May the crowds of fools cheer
A southern fire rises From the bay of Buccaneers Who despite the hell spawned winds Decided not to stop here
In the face of defeat we fought No excuse we make Our time was bled away With everything at stake
Abandoned veteran Of a doomed crusade An eagle's last flight To take away our faith Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
Bodies will rot Through bodies I wade We have seen heroes Bleeding every day
Running from a curse That will never go away The wind blows coldest here The ground itself is dead
Most vermin died here early As the bigger rats were fed Nowhere left to go now The best we still can't trust
Tear down my kingdom I will spit on the dust
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