Turn you back on London's bitter pride
In melancholic isolation
Force-feed yourself sentimentality
With golden age mythology
A feudal lord doesn't live no more
But in the night, the ravens call

False memories, fake history
Next you'll talk of racial purity

When the nightingale sings
The knights around all cleave close
You were abiding
Well your name is not

Always one, simple relations
Walk away from anonymity
The feudal lords are ruthless no more
But in the night the ravens call

(Force-feed yourself sentimentality)

False memories, fake history
False memories
Fake history
Next you'll talk of racial purity

When the nightingale sings
The knights around all cleave close
You were abiding
Well your name is not

(Force-feed yourself sentimentality)

When the nightingale sings
The knights around all cleave close
You were abiding
Well your name is not