O lords of tyre, princes of Babylon
The principal ones of the earth
Woe is you
For a banner is raised on a bare hill
Can you hear it
A trumpet is blown
Can you see it
For the LORD and the weapons of His indignation
Behold, they come against the walls of Babylon the go
Those skilled in lamentation
For all the towers will fall in that day
O woe is you
The principal ones of the earth, the princes of tyre, against you is this raised
He comes riding on the darkness and the clouds
Behold
What is raised up will be trampled down
What is raised up will not stand
We will trample your shells beneath our feet and grind you into powder
And you will be no more
Behold for this is the heritage of the saints
Beware
Woe is you
Timoratus & Weapons of Indignation - Voice of the Lion Lyrics
Timoratus & Weapons of Indignation - Voice of the Lion Lyrics
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O lords of tyre, princes of Babylon
The principal ones of the earth
Woe is you
For a banner is raised on a bare hill
Can you hear it
A trumpet is blown
Can you see it
For the LORD and the weapons of His indignation
Behold, they come against the walls of Babylon the go
Those skilled in lamentation
For all the towers will fall in that day
O woe is you
The principal ones of the earth, the princes of tyre, against you is this raised
He comes riding on the darkness and the clouds
Behold
What is raised up will be trampled down
What is raised up will not stand
We will trample your shells beneath our feet and grind you into powder
And you will be no more
Behold for this is the heritage of the saints
Beware
Woe is you
The principal ones of the earth
Woe is you
For a banner is raised on a bare hill
Can you hear it
A trumpet is blown
Can you see it
For the LORD and the weapons of His indignation
Behold, they come against the walls of Babylon the go
Those skilled in lamentation
For all the towers will fall in that day
O woe is you
The principal ones of the earth, the princes of tyre, against you is this raised
He comes riding on the darkness and the clouds
Behold
What is raised up will be trampled down
What is raised up will not stand
We will trample your shells beneath our feet and grind you into powder
And you will be no more
Behold for this is the heritage of the saints
Beware
Woe is you
Writer: Aleks Tengesdal
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid