sycophants - ancient tome lyrics
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the sycophants suckle at the teat of dear leader
the cardinal laughs as we choke on a pittance we are owed
if you want a vision of the future just imagine a boot stomping on a human face forever
the brownshirts march through my house, their dog whistles so loud
they beg to refund their lives, don’t they know we’d be happy to oblige?
the blood of the frothing, stupid
they’re not sending their best, they’re sеnding:
scum
if you want a vision of the future just imagine a boot stomping on a human facе forever
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