A Pict Song Lyrics

	作词 : Bragg, Kipling
	Rome never looks where she treads
	Always her heavy hooves fall
	On our stomachs, our hearts and our heads
	And rome never hears when we bawl
	Her sentries pass on -- that is all
	And we gather behind them in hordes
	And plot to reconquer the wall
	With only our tongues for our swords
	For we are the little folk -- we!
	Too little to love or to hate
	Leave us alone and you'll see
	That we can bring down the state
	Mistletoe killing an oak
	Rats gnawing cables in two
	Moths making holes in a cloak
	How they must love what they do!
	Yes -- and we little folk too
	We are as busy as they
	Working our works out of view
	Watch, and you'll see it some day
	No indeed! we are not strong
	But we know of peoples that are
	Yes and we'll guide them along
	To smash and destroy you in war
	We shall be slaves just the same?
	Yes, we have always been slaves
	But you -- you will die of the shame
	And then we will dance on your graves
	We are the worm in the wood!
	We are the rot at the root!
	We are the taint in the blood!
	We are the thorn in the foot!
	Rudyard kipling

	zuo ci : Bragg, Kipling
	Rome never looks where she treads
	Always her heavy hooves fall
	On our stomachs, our hearts and our heads
	And rome never hears when we bawl
	Her sentries pass on that is all
	And we gather behind them in hordes
	And plot to reconquer the wall
	With only our tongues for our swords
	For we are the little folk we!
	Too little to love or to hate
	Leave us alone and you' ll see
	That we can bring down the state
	Mistletoe killing an oak
	Rats gnawing cables in two
	Moths making holes in a cloak
	How they must love what they do!
	Yes and we little folk too
	We are as busy as they
	Working our works out of view
	Watch, and you' ll see it some day
	No indeed! we are not strong
	But we know of peoples that are
	Yes and we' ll guide them along
	To smash and destroy you in war
	We shall be slaves just the same?
	Yes, we have always been slaves
	But you you will die of the shame
	And then we will dance on your graves
	We are the worm in the wood!
	We are the rot at the root!
	We are the taint in the blood!
	We are the thorn in the foot!
	Rudyard kipling

	zuò cí : Bragg, Kipling
	Rome never looks where she treads
	Always her heavy hooves fall
	On our stomachs, our hearts and our heads
	And rome never hears when we bawl
	Her sentries pass on that is all
	And we gather behind them in hordes
	And plot to reconquer the wall
	With only our tongues for our swords
	For we are the little folk we!
	Too little to love or to hate
	Leave us alone and you' ll see
	That we can bring down the state
	Mistletoe killing an oak
	Rats gnawing cables in two
	Moths making holes in a cloak
	How they must love what they do!
	Yes and we little folk too
	We are as busy as they
	Working our works out of view
	Watch, and you' ll see it some day
	No indeed! we are not strong
	But we know of peoples that are
	Yes and we' ll guide them along
	To smash and destroy you in war
	We shall be slaves just the same?
	Yes, we have always been slaves
	But you you will die of the shame
	And then we will dance on your graves
	We are the worm in the wood!
	We are the rot at the root!
	We are the taint in the blood!
	We are the thorn in the foot!
	Rudyard kipling

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