dedicated to Ania M-Ch.

The high priest of money looks down on the river
The dawn coming up on his kingdom of gold
When the rim of the sun sends an arrow of silver
He prays to the gods of the bought and the sold
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His axes and armour will conquer these devils
The turbulent raiders will falter and fall
Their leaders be taken, their camps burned and levelled
They'll hang in the wind from his citadel walls
In his kingdom of gold, kingdom of gold
Kingdom of gold, kingdom of gold
Kingdom of gold
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