of the kingdom of darkness

the empire's ghost sits crowned upon its grave
obedience is a habit and we bow
the mind and not the body is the slave

there was no wise tradition left to save
so it was easy our weak hearts to cow
the empire's ghost sits crowned upon its grave

its reedy music now the voice of knave
and thieving blackbird its nest will endow
the mind and not the body is the slave

to serve and cringe while holy fools will rave
of sacred duties we can't disavow
the empire's ghost sits crowned upon its grave

we bend our heads and study to behave
the proper way since we have learned just how
the mind and not the body is the slave

to pains and pleasures we've been made to crave
just so we bend and pull the heavy plough
the empire's ghost sits crowned upon its grave
the mind and not the body is the slave

the prophet armed

a true republic rises from the sea
after hard storms and the clear cleansing rain
it takes hard work to keep the city free

from what we fear we do not have to flee
since all that fell is what we will regain
a true republic rises from the sea

after long effort and we must agree
we lost so much we had hoped to maintain
it takes hard work to keep the city free

of hidden masters and of those we see
so very well in all our dreams of pain
a true republic rises from the sea

and at its heart the old sign of a tree
under its shade the children play again
it takes hard work to keep the city free

but we are sure no one will bend the knee
not on a day when they see justice plain
a true republic rises from the sea
it takes hard work to keep the city free