Lirieke: Mischief Brew. Fare Well, Good Fellows.

Fare well, good fellows, your ways are not for me
Fare well good fellows, your ways are not for me
Rest upon your laurels, glad you found your peace
But, fare well good fellows, your ways are not for me

A rappin' at the chapel door
Sweepin' at the enemies floor
Do not touch or make a sound
Keep your eyes upon the ground

I read your countless volumes, shunned your many sins
But I cannot find salvation in the rattlin' of your tins
I wish good to your children, and their own children too
But your armour will not fit me, though fine it's suiting you

So, fare well good fellows, your ways are not for me
Fare well good fellows, your ways are not for me
Rest upon your laurels, glad you found your peace
But, fare well good fellows, your ways are not for me

A flag is waved, the bomb is thrown
So many names and dates to know
Books upon the books are stacked
To get something so simple backwards

Dark and revolution, but spirals, not the spins
Where you'll fall down dizzy and forget where to begin
I wish good to your children, and their own children too
But your armour will not fit me, although fine it's suitin' you

Suitin' you, suitin' you.

Turn your blessings into weapons and hold them before your chest
To you and all your comrades, I only wish the best
We may not meet again, for we are treading separate trails
But I'll cast off and think of you, on seas, on roads, on rails

From chapels to the armies, magician to the 'nave
You either blaze your own trail, or you're diggin' your own grave
I wish good to your children and their own children too
But your armour will not fit me, although fine it's suitin' you

I said, your armour will not fit me
Your armour will not fit me, though fine it's suitin' you
Your armour will not fit me
Your armour will not fit me although fine it's suitin' you

So, fare well good fellows,
Fare well good fellows, your ways are not for me
Fare well good fellows
Fare well good fellows, your ways are not for me

Not for me