Stakes and torches,
Scimitars and bayonets,
Scythes, pitchforks,
A sickle with a sharpened edge.
Swords and spades,
And mallets that are made of lead.

Anything at hand,
Anything they can,
Help us to remove the head
Of that filthy rich,
Fat son of a bitch,
While he's sleeping in his bed.

Storm the steps,
We break into the palace hall.
It's so majestic,
We are frozen in our awe.
Grandmother cries as she crumples to her knees,
says, "I can understand,
That the rich demand,
An amount of luxury.
But I'd have never dreamed,
It was so extreme,
While we had nothing to eat."

Lyrics submitted by youuxxsuckk

Stakes And Torches (The Uprising of the Peasants) song meanings
Add your thoughts


sort form View by:

Add your thoughts

Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.

Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!

Back to top