The Angry Mob

We are the people who work and toil,
We are the peasants that drudge.
We work for our pittance, we serve the royals,
And those they employ to judge.

Those barons sit in their halls, and feast,
Whilst we slave away in the shops,
Those rich men laugh, not a care in the least,
Whilst we work to reap their crops.

We are the people, growing tired of working,
For the fat ladies and lords,
Look there, in the shadows! The phantoms are lurking,
They whisper, "Gather your swords!"

We are the people, ten thousand strong,
We swarm on the ballrooms and manors,
We gather en mass, we're marching along,
Beating out shields, waving our banners.

We are the people who riot and raid,
We harrass the nobles and Earls,
We batter the doors, the hounds are slayed,
We pillage their diamonds and pearls.

The Duke sits alone in his castle,
Stroking his beard like a snob.
He cries, "What's to be done about all this hassle?"
As he stares down at the angry mob.