Kill! Burn!
 Waste the wenches!
 Hark the herald!
 The King wants blood! 

 Hark the herald,
 the war drums beating.
 Hark the call,
 the call to arms!
 Sally forth,
 and no retreating.
 Saddle thy horse,
 raise the alarm! 

 The king hath decreed,
 us knights do battle,
 for the honour,
 of his fair queen.
 Now we ride,
 to meet the brutes on their own ground.
 Mace,steel and lance,
 has vengeance found

 Kill! Burn!
 Waste the wenches!
 Hark the herald!
 The King wants blood!

 Deep entrenched,
 Lord Asquith is hiding,
 in his fort,
 portcullis is down.
 Lay siege will we,
 and yield will he,
 to declare the innocence,
 of our queen (the whore!)

 Kill! Burn!
 Waste the wenches!
 Hark the herald!
 The King wants blood!

 Women crying.
 Witches scrying.
 Banners flying.
 Knights dying!