Demons Rising - Rebellion

The crown, my deeds Like a burden does it seem

I stand all alone In a dark and empty dream

Such is the bitter taste

Of the blarney outta hell

There was a life to waste

And the witches did it well

Here as I sit

On a cold and empty throne

The thanes, most men

All have fled I am alone

Such is the bitter taste

Of my hopes about to fall

There was a life to waste

I see demons rising tall

(Bridge:)

No use to run and hide

No use to run and hide

(Ref.:)

Now as my dreams lie there in pieces

Where is the glory after all

Now as I stand amidst the ruins

I see demons rising tall

Demons rising tall

Still I am invincible

No fear in my heart there’ll be

No man man of woman born

Shall have power over me

Yet there is a bitter taste

Of the madness that did fall.

I had a life to waste

I see demons rising tall

(Macbeth:) They have tied me to a stake.

I cannot fly, but bear-like I must

fight the course.

What’s he that was not born of woman?

Such a one am I to fear,

or none.

(Young Siward:) What is thy name?

(Macbeth:) Thou’lt be afraid to hear it.

(Young Siward:) No, though thou call’st thyself a hotter name than any is in

hell.

(Macbeth:) My name’s Macbeth.

(Young Siward:) The devil himself could not pronounce a title more hateful to

mine ear.

(Macbeth:) No, nor more fearful.

(Young Siward:) Thou liest, abhorred tyrant.

With my sword I’ll prove the lie

thou speak’st.

(They fight, and young Siward is slain)

(Macbeth:) Thou wast born of woman, but swords I smile at, weapons laugh to

scorn, brandished by man that’s of a woman bom.

(Macbeth:) Why should 1 play the Roman fool, and die on mine own sword?

Whiles I see lives, the gashes do better upon them.

(Enter Macduff)

(Macduff:) Turn, hell-hound, turn.

(Macbeth:) Macduff, of all men else I have avoided thee.

But get thee back.

My soul is too much charged with blood of thine already.

(Macduff:) I have no words;

My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain than

terms can give thee out.

(They fight)

(Macbeth:) Thou losest labour.

As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air with thy

keen sword impress as make me bleed.

Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;

I bear a charmed life, which must not yield to one of woman born.

(Macduff:) Despair thy charm, and let the angel whom thou still hast served

tell thee Macduff was from his mother’s womb untimely ripped.

(Macbeth:) Accursed be that tongue that tells me so, for it hath cowed my

better part of man;

and be these juggling fiends no more believed,

that palter with us in a double sense, that keep the word of promise to our

ear and break it to our hope.

I’ll not fight with thee.

(Macduff:) Then yield thee, coward,

(Macbeth:) I will not yield to kiss the ground before your feet,

and to be baited with the rabble’s curse.

Though thou opposed being of no woman born, yet I will try the last.

Before my body I throw my warlike shield.

Lay on, Macduff, and damned be him

that first cries: «Hold, enough!"My fate may have turned to black but at least

I 'II die with harness on my back.