There's a fallen angel on a throne in every capitalcity
Ruling with "wisdom" that manipulates the children of this century
Pulling the kings like puppets on strings bowing their knees to him
Dancing on the head of the serpent
Dancing on the head of the serpent
His name is lust, his name is pride his name is deceptive knowledge
But still he has a nail in his eye he can't buy the saints in the city
He tries and he tries but they won't compromise they show him no mercy no pity
And that's alright, that's alright
Dancing on the head of the serpent
He sits on a throne with an arrogant smile thinking he's gonna stay there forever
But the King of the Saints is mounting His steps there is a judgement to settle
And in a short moment his face turns surprised before he is thrown to the ground
That's alright, that's alright
Dancing on the head of the serpent
Dancing on the head of the serpent
Writer(s): Ulf Mats Christiansson
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