They came to get you You knew they would The necromance grew Underfoot And from your tower You heard them scream To break you back and Make ends meet For though your words were good And though were hands are clean You misunderstood Just what they mean For though they were cold Times were too lean To tell them there was gold In what you decree And in that hour It came to you You sought the answer They needed proof 'Cause though your words were good And though your hands are clean You misunderstood Just what they need For though they were cold Times were too lean To tell them there was gold In what you believe