We breakdance on broken glass
We haunt these cities with your face as the mask
You'd like to know but you're too afraid to ask
We've taken all your wives and gave your whole town a bath

No reason for treason, we'll stalk you every season
Your daughters love our style, and every slaughter ends with a smile
Your sons look up to us, someday they'll ride with us
Bottle of rum to match the dust
Our wounds are numb and destruction's a must
Split cities into three, and cut your peacock wings
Delivered a spell of lions to feast upon your kings
Oh, you'll know when we're coming because this is the song we'll sing
Oh, you'll know when we're coming because this is the song we'll sing

Split cities into three, and cut your peacock wings