The fires are burning in the darkened streets,
Through the night I hear the sound of marching feet,
Revolution, is in the air,
Lock your doors, they'll be calling here.
(Chorus) Under the blade, madame guilotine,
Under the blade, death or victory.
'For your treason it is the hand of fate,
We find you guilty for crimes against the state.'
Through the torchlight, to execution square,
How the crowds of faceless people cheer,
(CHORUS)
(Middle 8){spoken} The blood of the wealthy,
{spoken} Will stain the streets.
To flow in rivers,
Around my lady's feet.
The crowds are lining the route to madame's steps,
To please the masses, I'll pay my last respects,
I'll surrender to her shining knife,
Born of noble blood was my only crime.