Brodequin
Текст песни Tyburn Field

A voice of foul festivity hangs in the air devouring the squires of mercy
Trembling near the gibbet gathering in the shadow of the gallows a stifling
Silence overcomes the crowd as the deadman makes his first appearance on the scene

Roars of support for the king demanding revenge on the traitor death is what
They need to satisfy their hunger noose placed slowly around the throat a final
Gaze moves across the crowd

Forty thousand strong all anxious for the drop rows of corpses fill the elm
Trees where they will remain for months