| From Rebels and Kings. |
| Medieval writer can not hide |
| the people fighting for their pride |
| Northwind blowing through the skin |
| planet of death, sun of ruin |
| The king hears the drums |
| he can taste defeat |
| Flames in the sky give a cold dark heat |
| rhythm of revenge calms the savage beast |
| Outside on the street |
| everybody is dancing to the rebel beat |
| The beggars offer him their money |
| his hounds are to afraid to bark |
| Can’t understand his loyal subjects |
| fear holds the key and not respect |
| the king hears the drums |
| he can taste defeat |
| Flames in the sky give a cold dark heat |
| rhythm of revenge calms the savage beast |
| outside on the street |
| everybody is dancing to the rebel beat |
| Have I learned to fly now? |
| As the king walks to the gallows |
| the jester wipes away a smile |
| A minstrel lurking in the shadows |
| the guilty slain without a trial |
| the funeral tems becomes a rhapsody |
| flames in the sky show the legacy |
| rhythm of change a chance to meet |
| meanwhile on the street |
| everybody is dancing to the rebel beat |