The Rage

((Tipton, Halford, Downing) 4.42 from "British Steel")

From a fireball we came crossed sea and mountain
We were drinking beauty with our eyes
We were given all to make our own
Let us be left alone

Laid the tasks and paid the price
Everything survives
Crushed and bolted all the grain
At every wind what a stake we're in
Is pain better than the grave

When we talk without amend
We see red and then
Deep inside our blood begins to boil
Like a tiger in the cage
We begin to shake with rage