Rush

Ooh, there's no bread, let 'em eat cake
There's no end to what they'll take
Flaunt the fruits of noble birth
Wash the salt into the earth
But they're marching to Bastille Day.
La guillotine will claim her bloody prize.
Free the dungeons of the innocent
The king will kneel
And let his kingdom rise.
Ooh, there's stained velvet, dirty lace,
naked fear on every face
See them bow their heads to die
As we would bow as they rode by
And we're marching to Bastille Day