Orijinal sözler
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Black misery
Conflict and negotiations
Nothing left to feed my family
Black misery
Pestilence and harvests lost
Monarchs never count the cost
Hostages to higher lifestyles
Humans cannot live this way
No choice for the third estate
No choice for the meek
With conspiracies you raise yourselves to trample us to dust
No future for the weak
To watch while you avail yourselves of what belongs to us
Of what belongs to us
