Storm the Bastille

Aristocrats held all the cards

The rules they made kept the people barred

And when the king refused to share their rights

They knew this time he'd gone to far

The palace guards have guns and mace

To keep the marchers in their place

But even if they restless blood should run

The choice was made, the breakdown had begun.

The tower falls, the flag is changed

The new one still looks much the same.

While nameless faces sit for portrait painters

About to see it all again.

Whose hand is seen as open,

Whose hands are bound?

Who wears the cap, who wears the crown?

Storm The Bastille.