Sons Of Avarice

Speak of heroes

You're swift to nominate them

Oh, darling be a sacrificial lamb

Oh, poor boys fighting peasants in foreign lands

How loudly you praise them

Oh, but where were you then?

Off dancing with your debutante

Her skin is soft and warm

But her eyes are cold and dead

It serves the greedy well

To say men's hearts are dark

But I believe there'll be a light that shines

Which now is just a spark

No gods, no masters

No kings nor their court jesters

No gods, no masters

No kings nor their court jesters

Bury the last

Sons of avarice

Tell the teachers and nurses and soldiers

They must be lazy and/or dumb

While you, you earn a hundred to one

Oh, but don't you f**king utter the word

Meritocracy

So what's our priorities

With people or markets being free

I hear Sudan is a dusty place

And every day a few less black faces

It serves the greedy well

To say men's hearts are dark

But I believe there'll be a light that shines

Which now is just a spark

No gods, no masters

No kings nor their court jesters

No gods, no masters

No kings nor their court jesters

Bury the last

Sons of avarice

No gods, no masters

No kings nor their court jesters

No gods, no masters

No kings nor their court jesters

Bury the last

Sons of avarice