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letra de a corpulent warlord - round table

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great kraal vast in his rusted mail
warlord of the ruthless clan
cunning ally of the pale crusaders
slayer of the infant king
he craves neither peace nor comfort
violence is its own reward
woe betide he owes his lot
to that boundless wrath

he collects the bitter and corrupted
and wields their anger like a tool
empowered by the might of northern coin
his grip grows ever strong
their treachery comes without surprise
but still his rage ignites
woe betide those who line the path
to his bl–dy goal

he rallies forth his party thus:
“to the coward uthur‘s keep
our road-soiled band will cross his court
boots befouling pristine stone
to his vulgar lounging throne
and strike the grapefruit from his grasp
let him cower at my feet
before the crowning blow!”

a thousand hooves of thunder
amidst a h-llish storm of dust
they leave only ashes in their wake
but nothing sates their bl–dy l-st
the dread warrior rides ahead
astride his iron-plated steed
he swings his putrid axe aloft
in his murderous trance

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