- Still Wilson
They are tearing down the palace
The king, he can no longer pay
And that’s quite alright with us
He is not, not a good king anyway
They are tearing down the palace
Not one soul would claim the deed
Nobody wants a memento
From the house built of greed
And mothers with hungry babes rejoice at the sight
And the men with their empty pockets raise a glass by firelight
They’re tearing down the palace tonight
Sure enough, they are tearing down the palace
The gardens are all overgrown
The hearth is cold, the walls are bare
No ghost would call it home
So, return that stolen water and feed that poor man's dry land
And one day we’ll set a fine table with a harvest from that same farmer’s hand
And we'll share a meal where once a palace was turned to sand
And mothers with hungry babes rejoice at the sight
While the men with their empty pockets raise a glass by firelight
They are tearing down the palace
The king, he can no longer pay
And that’s quite alright with us
He is not, not a good king anyway
Let them tear down the palace
He wasn't a good king anyway
So they're tearing down the palace