Fruits and veggies and trinkets and rings Old carpenters, blacksmiths, and gamblers and fiends All lined to the road impatiently sold To the merchants that run this whole town to the mold These vendors are sellin' and buyers are yellin In materialistically restive serenades They're armed to the teeth, with gold to release In an unfair trade for the lug that we need
One more knot it my noose and I'll be old news A gesture, a muse, a flame for the fuse One more flint for the knife and I'll be old life The final act of the night The scum of the land showcased at hand The townsfolk was singing and I was roped, dead and swinging
Step, step right up Come one and come all to the stand of the fall This burg is a crumblin' one fool at a time So dig your hands in your redemption has arrived Five fingers are put to good use An obstacle jumped for the good of the few Invisible peasants lay waste in the hell While fat chucklin' monarchs just eat, drink and swell
So burn this burg and take the reward If they find you and catch you, you'll surely be sore But first they must do so, so gorge and gorge This markets for the taking so take what is yours