Here is the storehouse of Her Majesty
Well guarded by sentry, but looks are free

Call this the rayless and beknighted age
Witches by talon candles shifted, shifted their shapes
Here there's a pestle and mortar
That ground the poison seed
A lute, a suit for jousting
And the poems of the balladeers
When all the Latin books are copied off
In golden script
Were h___ded away in a monastery crypt

Superstition, superstition beyond belief

Over mountains, over dunes and over seas
Crude map and compass led the caravan
And led the fleet
Here's the loot and plunder
They bore home
Ivory tusk inlaid with precious stone
Raw silk and spices by the barrel load
A soft skin drum with mallets of human bone

A world wide rampage, rampage of greed

So here the tour concludes
The Colonial Wing
The rooms of the most refined
Museum property
An early pair of spectacles
A claw footed divan
Ornate clock with birds that strut
On the half hour and quarter hours

Hear them chime

See also:
JustSomeLyrics
98
98.46
artist Dekhne walone Lyrics
Stefan Banica Jr ASTA A FOST, ATAT A RAMAS ! Lyrics