Ark - Flagday lyrics

His father came to him with news of their demise The peasants turn from work to light the burning fires That shone like beacons with a message full of hate A crumbling government a**embled to dabate A mere formality and anyhow too late To save the system of injustice and decay Tinker, tailor, a poor man stole Judge him not by anothers sole Ambition in life to wield the stick Upon the wounds that we all lick On his instructions he changed into servants clothes His father wished him luck and urged him then to go A last embrace, unshedded tear, away from home Tinker, tailor, a poor man stole Judge him not by anothers sole Ambition in life to wield the stick Upon the wounds that we all lick