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Kyng
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In the Land of Pigs
a slave, a crow, a friend to appease
the sour voice of an old disease
lose the ruin road to light
fallow crumbs with a wilted sight
brake the sullen gaze
they will beat the sunshine from my eyes
dead beast, bruising the stride
forget the frightened i'm forgiving the way of the world
every thief deserves a crown
and every kings a criminal
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prize and pay to hold me down
master of the blind faithful
so simple the choice in slumber
knowing what ill be
now i see that i will the butcher
in the land of pigs i'm still the kyng
the butcher in the land of pigs i'm always king
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