Trophy Room

Proud portraits of a doctored page
A shadow cast upon a missing page
Quaint crafts and artifacts
Round well-refined collections
In defeat the heads are hung
In the galleries of shopped retail
The hollowed eyes of the once defiant
Mark the End of The Trail

Severed Heads, Severed Heads
Rest on the mantel piece in dead display

And with the cunnning art of seizure
Ship the spoils off to Rome
To please hearts of leisure
On walls of "Better Homes"
Secret histories are told
In the stone of stately alabaster
Stolen heads hold up the throne
Say servants of their master

Severed Heads, Severed Heads...

Their culture cuts like knives
The modern thought of white design
I wouldn't say they spared my life
They fashion roles to hijack souls
And label them as their own

And in the proud halls of Wharton
The unspoken rule is known
That the wealth of nations
Is the appropriation
Of an image as their own