Paroles de Of Days When Blades Turned Blunt

According to this calender Nine thermidor, year two Age of the national razor Humane mass-murdering tool Execurtioner's grinning As the axe comes down Swift smooth separation Off goes another crown Thus kings and queens convicted Like marie-antoinette Her mug too in the basket By pulling the lunette Sentenced by thousands Under "la grande terreur" A dark tale of represson And the beheadings that occured Pre-eminent symbol For blood the masses roar Indomitable justice The crowd demanding more Square of decapitations Place de revolution Where severed faces murmur Of days when blades turned blunt