[Chorus Intro – Merchant’s Call] “Step right up, good sirs, good dames! Black Anvil craft, the finest names. A sword that gleams, a plough that holds, For just three coins and a sack of souls! See the hinges, polished bright, See the chain that bites just right. Come, come closer, have no fear, The Black Anvil Choir is always near!” [Verse 1 – The Truth] We smelt the silver, clip the grain, Stretch the steel till it’s half as plain. Your wedding band is copper core, Your crown’s been pawned a dozen more. The farmer’s blade, it snaps in rain, The knight’s fine helm is mostly tin. But all will praise the forge’s song, Though every rivet’s forged half wrong. [Verse 2 – The Truth] We drink the sparks, but you drink lies, We gild the rust and sell it twice. A holy bell that cracks on toll, A chalice that leaks wine and soul. We swear by fire, by ash, by steel, Yet all we swear’s a crooked deal. And while you haggle, plead, or curse, We weigh your purse our only verse. [Short Bridge – Guild Masters’ Boast] “Strike the hammers, stoke the flame! Black Anvil makes the world our game. See the forges, hear them sing, We shape the fate of beggar and king. Tools so sharp, our fame expands Though sharper still are our greedy hands. Our metals shine, though thinned and base, We line our bellies, we line our place.” [Chorus – The Customers’ Thoughts] Bang the coin, drown the prayer, Surely honest craft is there. Crowns and shackles from the flame, Every smith is forged the same. Bang the coin, and let it ring, Buy the plough, the sword, the ring. Gold is fleeting, steel must stay Or so they swear, we pay, we pay. [Verse 3 – The Truth Grows Bitter] The warlord’s axe is brittle bone, But who will dare to cast the stone? The merchant’s scales are forged to cheat, And all our blades break clean and neat. Yet every lord still comes to bow, For we alone can arm them now. The poor man groans, the rich man feeds, All chained alike to the Anvil’s deeds. [Verse 4 – The Truth Grows Bitter] We forged the thrones, we forged the graves, We forged the manacles for slaves. We forged the dice the gambler throws, The nails that hold the gallows’ ropes. And when your kings grow fat and proud, We melt them down and sell them loud. The song of hammers, sweet and dire, Is but the hymn of Anvil’s choir. [Extended Bridge – The Masters Again] “Raise the goblets, raise them high! Our coffers full, our chimneys sigh. Steel or copper, who can tell? We sell you heaven, and forge you hell. Strike the iron, watch it bend, The coin’s the means, the coin’s the end. We gild the rust, we cheat, we thrive By your belief, we eat, we live!” [Long Outro – The Troubadour’s Sneer] Bang, bang, the anvils sing, A broken plough, a twisted ring. Bang, bang, the hammers fall, A kingdom built on fraud and gall. Bang, bang, the fools still pay, The guild grows fatter day by day. Bang, bang, the choir cries, Every truth is dressed in lies. So step right up, good sirs, good dames, Buy your shackles, buy your chains. Bang the coin, drown the prayer The Black Anvil Inc. is always fair.
