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Lyrics of a song F.P.B. - Peasant Slave

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It's how they make you afraid
Peasant mornings
the clock your hand the blade
every evening at the Jade Pagoda
you glide, you rise.

You slide down to their level
Peasant nature
names you
princess need bends you
over tables
at the Jade Pagoda nights.
You
fall.

You cast your mind back:
Mom, Her fresh
blood on the floor. Eyes.
The door.
How it fahtered hate you swore
Slave at her you swore.

Peasant.