Plague And Fyre - Hell

Bring out your dead!

Bring out your dead!

Roses blister on his skin, fill him full of lies

Withered posies crumbling in his hand

Destroy the lucky amulet, and damn us with the flies

Read the last rites

«Blessed be the people» is a mockery

From clergy which approve the kiss of death

Ring-a-ring the children sing, the black plague bells are heralding

Their funeral pyre, for beggar, priest and king

No, no, no — Nobility’s no sanctuary

Flee, flee, flee — The rat’s bubonic flea

But the scourge is everywhere, England weeps in her despair

And in misty eyes a cure cannot be seen

Raging pox and pestilence are dripping with the blood

The slavering black dog roams everywhere

Smites the ones he bites, and drags the ones he misses down

The worst is yet to come

As 1665 turns into 666

A dread like none before grips every man

As the prince of darkness sets aloose his wicked bag of tricks

Will the evil lord unleash his masterplan?

No, no, no — Nobility’s no sanctuary

Flee, flee, flee — The rat’s bubonic flea

But the scourge is everywhere, England weeps in her despair

And in misty eyes a cure cannot be seen

«This plague and the impending conflagrations are signs from God

And thus we, the flagellants, shall inflict punishment

Upon our bodily flesh and other earthly manifestations

To atone for the sins of the world»

Satan had sent out a plot as cruel as it was grand

To raze away the English capital

As the final time began, he brought the flames to make his stand

And thirteen times the baker shook his hand

In the hellish heat of his retreat, the Devil did a spy

The souls of London town are ripe for taking

From the depths of his disguise, through the black slits of his eyes

The fallen angel watched the city die, die, die, die

No, no, no — Nobility’s no sanctuary

Flee, flee, flee — The rat’s bubonic flea

But the scourge is everywhere, England weeps in her despair

And in misty eyes a cure cannot be seen

Fire, fire, fire — is burning London town

Try, try, try — to beat the flames down

But the heat is too intense, and it’s thirst cannot be quenched

And London’s burning to the ground

Ground!

London’s burning to the ground!

Ring-a-ring o’roses

A pocket full of o’posies

We all fall down!