[Chorus Intro – Troubadour’s Call] “Bang the coin, strike the steel, Bend the knee, the guilds are real. Black Anvil, Three Banks, Flame, Penumbra Bow to the crown you’ll never number. No king, no god, no priest renowned The guilds, my friends, they wear the crown.” [Verse 1 – The Web of Chains] The farmer pays the Anvil’s fee, For broken ploughs and rusted key. The merchant counts the wag and cuti, And fattens coffers, foul and greedy. The titos burn, the Enforcers beat, The soot and flame devour the street. And in the dark, with whispered breath, Penumbra sells you holy death. [Verse 2 – The People Bound] The peasant’s coin, the craftsman’s hand, The noble’s gold, the priest’s command. Each life is tithed, each soul is sold, The guilds decide what’s bought with gold. No throne can stand, no state can rule, Without the guild to weigh the fool. And every oath is writ, profound By hands that wear the Hidden Crown. [Short Bridge – Guildmasters’ Boast] “We keep your bread, we forge your chain, We guard your wealth, we tax your pain. We light your streets, we shadow kings, We own the end of all your things. Without the guild, your world is dust, So kneel, so pay, so learn to trust. Our power grows, our roots are deep Your lives are ours, your souls we keep.” [Chorus – The People’s Thoughts] Bang the coin, let it fall, The guilds must rule, they own it all. Bang the coin, and pray aloud, The guilds are harsh, but strong, but proud. Bang the coin, and drink it down, They wear the crown, the Hidden Crown. [Verse 3 – The Countless Guilds] The scribes will write, the healers mend, The masons build, the sailors send. The thieves will steal, the bards will sing, The guilds will own each little thing. From door to grave, from birth to bed, The guilds will weigh the coin instead. Their fingers stretch, their hooks are found, In every breath, the Hidden Crown. [Verse 4 – The Eternal Grip] The rulers change, the banners fall, The guilds remain, they own it all. Kings will die, the priests will rot, But guilds forget, the guilds do not. They are the worm beneath the throne, The leech that makes your flesh its own. And still the fools will kiss the ground, Before the weight of Hidden Crown. [Extended Bridge – Guildmasters Again] “Raise the song, the guilds are true! Without our craft, what would you do? Our scales are just, our chains are kind, Our ledgers clean, our contracts signed. We are eternal, vast, immense, The world is ours, in coin and sense. So pay, so kneel, so cry, so sing The guilds are god in everything.” [Long Outro – The Troubadour’s Sneer] Bang, bang, the anvils sing, The merchants clip, the bankers ring. Bang, bang, the titos lie, The soot consumes, the people die. Bang, bang, the shadow falls, Penumbra laughs, and silence calls. Bang, bang, the countless names, Each guild a chain, each chain the same. And Noordhland bows, and Noordhland bleeds, The guilds are roots, the guilds are weeds. Bang the coin, bang the ground, The guilds, my friends, are the Hidden Crown.
