Lyrics
Alright, London
From Toronto, Canada
Rush
There's no bread let them eat cake
There's no end to what they'll take
Flaunt the fruits of noble birth
Wash the salt into the earth
But they're marching to Bastille Day
La guillotine will claim her bloody prize
Hear the echoes of the centuries
Well, power isn't all that money buys
Bloodstained velvet, dirty lace
Naked fear on every face
See them bow their heads to die
As we would bow and they rode by
And they're marching to Bastille Day
La guillotine will claim her bloody prize
Sing, o choirs of cacophony
Well, the king must kneel to let his kingdom rise
Lessons taught but never learned
All around us anger burns
Guide the future by the past
Long ago the mould was cast
For they marched out to Bastille Day
La guillotine claimed her bloody prize
Hear the echoes of the centuries
Power isn't all that money buys, woah
Thank you
How are you doing tonight, London?
This is about public character, it's called "By-Thor & The Snowdog"