Worms of the Earth

We are the Worms of the Earth, against the Lions of Might.
All of our days we are tied to the land,
while they hunt and they feast and they fight.
We give our crops and our homes and our live,
and the clerics tell us this is right.
And they've beat us before, and they'll beat us again,
but we'll drink from their helmets tonight.

My father worked on the land, as did his father before him.
Plowing and sowing by hand,
and harvesting what the land bore him.
He was murdered by robbers before I was ten,
one stroke of the sword and then they were gone.
While our Lord strutted bravely atop his tall wall,
and did nothing to hinder the slaughter.

For we are the Worms of the Earth, against the Lions of Might.
All of our days we are tied to the land,
while they hunt and they feast and they fight.
We give our crops and our homes and our lives,
and the clerics tell us this is right.
And they've beat us before, and they'll beat us again,
but we'll drink from thier helmets tonight.

Our Lord rode away to the wars, mounted atop a tall stallion.
To fight for some noble cause,
with his knights and his henchmen to guard him.
Then we heard that they captured both he and his men,
and for that, they raised our taxes again.
For to pay the great randsome in gold and in gems,
to bring our lord back to rule us.

We are the Worms of the Earth, against the Lions of Might.
All of our days we are tied to the land,
while they hunt and they feast and they fight.
We give our crops and our homes and our live,
and the clerics tell us this is right.
And they've beat us before, and they'll beat us again,
but we'll drink from their helmets tonight.

This year there was a great drought, our crops burned away in the ground.
Not that our Lord did without,
his men took all that they found.
Then our Lord came among us with some of his men,
to announce that our taxes were raised once again.
So some of us acted on our desperate plan,
now his body lies meat for the crows.

Now into the fire we stare, behind our poor barricade.
Too tired to feel the despair, knowing no one will come to our aid.
For when the dawn rises the knights all around,
will gather their forces and hunt us all down.
And mount our heads proudly on pikes in the town.
And our final tax will be paid.

We are the Worms of the Earth, against the Lions of Might.
All of our days we are tied to the land,
while they hunt and they feast and they fight.
We give our crops and our homes and our live,
and the clerics tell us this is right.
And they've beat us before, and they'll kill us tommorow,
but we'll drink from their helmets tonight.