Vārdi: Floater. Exiled.

Oh, to be so rested that we can withstand these long years.
We sweat in the wilderness,
carving and sqeezing the fat from the land.
From the birth of the sun god at mornging,
we struggle beneath him, breaking our hands.
Yeah, there is no rest for us,
There'll be no peace for us,
Not one second's rest for us.
We have been here so long.

Though our numbers may be small, there's more of us.
Rot you will and fertilize our dirt for us.
This is our home.
Yeah, we're on our way home,
on our way home,
yeah, on our way home.

While you are warm and safe
Just think of us shivering, beautifully brave.
Fear all that patience we've saved.
Know that we're coming back...
Black Sheep who've formed a pack.
Do you hear our footfalls creeping back up to your walls?
Creeping back home!

Though our armies may be less, there's more of us.
Yeah, rot you will and fertilize our dirt for us.
This, too, is our home.
Yeah, we're on our way home.
We're coming home

Tired of being cold,
And we don't care if your doors are closed.

Well, once upon a time, we were drinking from the golden flask.
Well, once upon a time, when the sun would shine, we could bask.
But now that's all gone.
Why do we live in exile?
We come out at night.
We love the night.
We know it's all downhill from here.
We know we're right, we know we're right!
We know it's all downhill from, all downhill...

Ahhh, ahhh,
Ahhh, ahhh....

Knock, knock...
We're back!