In golden halls they dance and feast, Fat on crowns they never earned, They draw their lines on polished maps While nameless bodies burn. They speak of flags, of blood and land, From velvet chairs and wine, But every war they proudly shout Is paid with lives like mine. We carried stones, we forged the steel, We bled to build their throne, They called us dirt, they called us beasts, But every wall was ours alone. We are the ones who built this world, While kings just learned to lie, They danced beneath the chandeliers As we were sent to die. Now hear the ground begin to crack, The drums, the fire, the sound— The Scurvy Dogs are breaking loose, We’re tearing kingdoms down. They fight for power, name and face, For titles carved in bone, Sending the poor, the lost, the damned To die for flags not their own. They call it order, call it fate, Call slaughter “sacrifice”, But hunger sees the truth at last And truth don’t ask twice. We tilled the fields, we raised the walls, We fed their endless greed, They ruled by fear and empty words, We ruled by blood and need. We are the ones who built this world, While kings just learned to lie, They danced beneath the chandeliers As we were sent to die. Now hear the ground begin to crack, The drums, the fire, the sound— The Scurvy Dogs are breaking loose, We’re tearing kingdoms down. No crowns! No chains! No masters left to praise! We rise! We burn! We end their hollow age! We were the hands, the backs, the bones, The builders of their lies, Now watch their towers fall to dust Before our starving eyes. We don’t want thrones, we don’t want gold, We want a world reborn— Built by the ones they left to rot, The outcasts they ignored. From ashes, drums, and broken crowns, A different world is born. The Scurvy Dogs don’t beg or kneel— We end what they adorned.
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