Cool thread.
Let's see if I can match up to the level.
Here is a song I have yet to record. It's called "Empire Down"
--------
Here lies the fable. Not of Caine and Able.
Not about the crossing of the alps liken to Hannibal.
Not about the hell voids, nor about the heavenly doors
Not about the fall of angels to a place called nevermore.
It's a tale about a nation of gods. Yes!
Divine master race adored and abhored.
Lords of heaven and space, and earth's crust and core
Who dictates what takes place, and what had happened before.
In a place where time created a race, made
To take over the throne of the continentals.
A bloodline, that stretches beyond the ages
Beyond the pages, embedded in the Holy Bible
Now that the intro to the fable is served
Like a gourmet on the table, a verse
Garnished with flamboyant words
It's time to drop the second verse from a higher level
With lyricals through the vision of another man...
Pre-CHORUS
"My fury quakes my soul," he said.
"To reap what our silence has sowed," he said.
"Till the last of my breath I vow,
"To see the last of an empire down..."
CHORUS
In the age of the heartless,
I wage war with the gutless!
And I will rage till the day that I'm bloodless!
EMPIRE DOWN!
EMPIRE DOWN!
"My eyes burn. Everytime I set my sights
On the years gone by where at every turn
I had to witness the pains of the citizens
That had suffered under iron fists
When prayers come to naught. When blessings can only be bought
With a fistful of gold or a goblet of gore, Filled
With the virgin veins of maidens that were made to be graced
By the holy lords, stripping them fresh for the gods
But it's just a facade. So let the truth now unfold
An age old believe is just a way to control
Through the power of fear. Through the rivers of tears.
Accumulate hate through the passing years
Cos it's just a facade, that had infected the times
The house of the gods, is just a house full of lies
But now I, brandish my fist up high
To see misery cease. To claim back our life!"
Pre-CHORUS
CHORUS
A nova struck chords with the sigh of resentment
And the people of the nation orchestrate a rebellion
That brews in the middle of the celestial land
Led by an angry lone voice of a man
And thus the grains of sands that lands
In the bottom half of the glass,
Stirs in the fury that reacts in turn
Bury the history of centuries of hypocrisies down under
To justify the silent screams that reach the yonder.
And ponder no longer what happens to the godly race
With an insatiable taste for plunder, murder and rape
Suffice to say the days of the masters
Ripped down to parts and torn apart into tatters.
But never give a thought that the fable I bought
Could not relate and reflect to our time and place, and beyond
Because history dictates that an angry voice
Will forever resonate these words.
Pre-CHORUS
CHORUS
----
Btw, in case anyone wondering, this is a rap piece.