Brodequin - Tyburn Field lyrics

A voice of foul festivity hangs in the air devouring the squires of mercy Trembling near the gibbet gathering in the shadow of the gallows a stifling Silence overcomes the crowd as the deadman makes his first appearance on the scene Roars of support for the king demanding revenge on the traitor d**h is what They need to satisfy their hunger noose placed slowly around the throat a final Gaze moves across the crowd Forty thousand strong all anxious for the drop rows of corpses fill the elm Trees where they will remain for months