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Circus Maximus |
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Was a time, in a land, at a place faraway |
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In a place we know as Rome |
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Many years, torn away, fades the distant memory |
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Try to think, what was life, when you knew one thing |
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that was please your king or die |
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Was a way, as a slave that you could become free |
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Masses will bet on his name |
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Women lust after his fame |
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The gladiators face is masked by pain |
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His wife and child will be slain |
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Promises someday he'll take revenge |
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Against the one who's to blame |
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The one who's to blame |
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Was a time, that he led, many men through the mud |
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All in honor of thier king |
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Counts the days, till he's done, where he wants to go is home |
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Then he's called to the tent, where he finds he is dead |
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That was murdered by his son |
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In his grief, then he turns and announces he is free |
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There is a price on his head |
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He then escapes with tears shed |
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The gladiators face is ripped by pain |
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His wife and child have been slain |
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Vows that someday he will take revenge |
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Against the one who's to blame |
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The ones who's to blame |
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We will live if we work as one |
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He must stay alive to meet them |
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The gladiators face is ripped by pain |
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He is well on his way |
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Falls beside the one, he has revenged |
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Strength and honor, no shame |
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Honor, No shame |
