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Grind of the Ages

The empire coughs its final breath. LAST GASP OF THE OLD GODS burns through broken systems and sacred lies — heavy riffs and ritual drums summoning the ghosts of rebellion. The lyrics are all mine, based on my History and Political Science classes. I used AI to design the cover art, and to put all the instruments and sounds together in my songs. LYRICS: Twelve thousand years of boots and backs New kings rise — same old attacks Gold on the throne, sweat on the floor Meet the new master… same as before Pharaohs crowned in desert heat Pyramids built by aching feet Rome feasts high while slaves bleed dust Every empire fed on trust Feudal lords — the castle gate Serfs break bones to feed the state Then factories — the gears comply The rich all toast while the workers die Upstairs — they dine Downstairs — we grind Upstairs — they shine Downstairs — we’re lined Patrician, pleb — two-class show That line runs deep — far as time will go Guildmaster shouting orders cold Wage-slave stories never told Veils are gone — cash is king Heartless math decides everything Freedom sold at market rate On your knees for a slice of fate Upstairs — they dine Downstairs — we grind Upstairs — they shine Downstairs — we’re lined No gods, no crowns — just the deal Keep you crawling, that’s the wheel Oppressor smiles — oppressed obey The names all change — the roles don’t stray Upstairs — they dine Downstairs — we grind Upstairs — they shine Downstairs — we’re lined Upstairs — they dine Downstairs — we grind New mask — same face Same boots — our place Same old chains… new machines