Fallen - Dirt Poor Robins

She’s fallen

She’s fallen

She covers her plate with the blood of the saints

Though her sanguine she knows will not quell

Her longing to blister, burn all who resist her

Dragging them down, down, down to her hell

Her kingdom comes

On the backs of the ones she once loved

So why, oh, why don’t you run?

The wise man flies

For a clear mind reads the signs of the times

So cut your ties

And run, run, run for your lives

Her kingdom comes

On the backs of the ones she once loved

So why, oh, why don’t you run?

The wise man flies

For a clear mind reads the signs of the times

So cut your ties

And run, run, run for your lives

She’s fallen

She’s fallen

She’s fallen

She’s fallen

Fallen