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The air is thick with moisture on these greener pastures

We’ve marched for weeks and now our food’s almost depleted

Raining, cleansing waters fall on me

Hail! Hail our pageantry, welcome us as friends

Please support the march by feeding our men

Bring your Baron here to stand before the Count

Let the people gather all around

He told the Priest where all the Jews did live and frequent

And then we sought them out to take from them our payment

Raining, screaming, gnashing jaws of anguish

Tears!

Screaming children weep, sitting in the mud

Watch their parents mocked and beaten Help!

Crying out for help, yet I still partake

Ignoring the pleas from the ancient pariah

Raining gold on muddy cobblestone Raining gold

I feel ashamed - this ransom burns

Raining gold coins, trying to buy themselves some time

Girls on the second floor throwing down their gold

Trying to distract our comrades

Priest of the Hermit’s men now is telling them

That they may as well convert or die

Guitar Solo: Tony