News
The Darkness have confirmed an extensive UK arena tour for 2026
Their latest album 'Dreams On Toast' peaked at No.2 on UK Charts.
About This Track
"The Age of Darkness" is a track by The Darkness, from the album Motorheart, released 19th November 2021. It's filed under Rock. Full lyrics are available below. Dork has published 8 articles about The Darkness.
About the Artist
Lyrics
Dragons breathing fire Goblins in the shire A windswept misty mire Preaching to the choir In a hovel eating mud In chainmail stained with blood The monks are chewing cud A mace falls with a thud Buxom wenches serving mead Maidens waiting to be freed Upon my trusty steed Like in that game Assassin's Creed Giants grinding bones Peasants armed with sticks and stones A dying hunchback groans Like in that program Game of Thrones Bishops come to blows Crusaders with crossbows 4 and 20 crows My fingers look like toes Elves keeping the peace The battle will not ceasе A princess I releasе Watch my wealth increase A cauldron full of ham Fear the battering ram Sacrificial lamb Hear the drawbridge slam Dung piles up in heaps Dungeon master creeps Another pustule weeps And sleeping beauty sleeps Stretching on a rack Dressed in a hessian sack Trolls whipping my back Catapult attack Behold my mighty sword I'll strike you like a chord If you do not applaud Bring me my reward I wield a jousting lance In pantaloons I prance Minstrels yell “Pray dance!” Dwarves look for romance Wizards casting spells Drinking out of wells Making unpleasant smells A passing merchant sells A gauntlet for my hand The battlements are manned The battle plans are planned Enemies be damned A princess kissed a frog Ogres in a bog Spit roasting a hog Dead horses to flog The slightest scratch will fester Chuckle at the jester Forgive me if I pester A medieval quester Demons we must vanquish Dust off the pear of anguish Squeeze them till their heads squish Merlin, grant me one wish The stocks await my foes My codpiece grows and grows Prick of a thorny rose And off to sleep she goes Upon the forest bed An arrow through the head We all make our own bread At 32 you're dead A horn's distinctive parp The plucking of a harp The taste of fresh speared carp My trident's nice and sharp Martyrs, kings, and knights Everyone in tights Brutal bloody fights To avenge imagined slights The thunder of a hoof Only got one tooth Clairvoyants saying sooth Thatched or blue slate roof And walls made of manure A bucket for a sewer Torture we endure And leeches are a cure Witches in the moat Burn them if they float A dagger to the throat Worshipping a goat A stoney faced abbess A damsel in distress An unsightly abscess The swamp is your address
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
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