Texty písní Horrible Histories Pachacuti

Pachacuti

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I'm Pachacuti, the Incan lord
All other tribes dreaded
My name means 'he who shakes the earth'
Not that I'm big-headed

When it comes to claiming nearby lands
I was the type to risk it
But it's how I treat dead enemies
That really took the biscuit

I drink from their skull
(Do the Pachacuti! )
Pull out their teeth whole
(Do the Pachacuti! )
Turn teeth into charms
(Do the Pachacuti! )
Make flutes out of their arms
(Pachacuti! )

Once on a hillside, I trooped in
To cause a rival strife
And when they jumped out, it looked like
The ground had come to life

The rocks they are my warriors
I then used to boast
And that little lie helped us win wars
But violence helped the most

I drink from their skull
(Do the Pachacuti! )
Pull out their teeth whole
(Do the Pachacuti! )
Turn teeth into charms
(Do the Pachacuti! )
Make flutes out of their arms
(Pachacuti! )

If you were a rival chief
We'd kill you fast and then
We'd stuff you like a scarecrow
But one for scaring men

Then we'd rest your bony fingers on
The stretched skin of your belly
And in the breeze, they'd tap that tum
Like a drummer, but more smelly!

Drink from their skull
(Do the Pachacuti! )
Pull out their teeth whole
(Do the Pachacuti! )
Use their skin as a drum
(Do the Pachacuti! )
I've never had so much fun!
(Pachacuti! )

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