Secrets of the Mushrooms
Sounds of hammers on rock,
Tick tock, tick tock,
No noise but the sound of the clock,
Tick tock, tick tock,
We work and we slave,
For the Queen all day,
And for what?
We muster up no backbone,
We don't have a home,
We sell our soul to the witch on her throne,
We won't say the words that we wish to speak,
That is because we are too weak,
So small she could crush us with the heel of a boot,
We do our slave work and we stay mute,
But one day we'll realize;
We'd rather die than to stick with you,
So,
Go on and shoot.