Verse 1
I believe that, Everything that we do in this world comes back,
Every act full circle like running on a track,
And I'm not saying I'm always comfortable with that,
See I got demons of my own that I hope don't ever catch me up,
Such were thoughts that I shuffled this night,
The shift work hustle, waiting for my bus to arrive,
But I dropped what I was holding in an instant,
I caught a glimpse of, a crowd of people that had gathered in the distance,
Walking towards me, down the middle of the street,
Feet moving in time, like they were written to a beat,
They got closer, I noticed their faces,
Didn't recognise any of 'em but I watched on in amazement,
They looked like the townspeople of Salem,
The last line of defence in Berlin before the city was taken,
Man, woman and child, of all ages,
They were bound by something as they took to the pavement,
I looked for a flag, were they marching for a cause,
Or carrying a cross, like an army of the lord's,
But they weren't heading for the courts, or for parliament lawn,
They had vengeance in their eyes, unmasked and forlorn,
They walked right past me, as if I wasn't even there,
A young girl caught me staring, and turned,
She looked me in my eyes, said no need to be scared,
You see they took what was ours, and now we coming for theirs, we are the creditors
Chorus
We are the creditors, they call us the creditors,
And we've come to collect, from all that indebted us,
We are the creditors, they call us the creditors,
Every name, every face, every word that was said to us,
Any innocence ever taken, we're taking back,
The world, the whole world will fade to black.
Hear the cries of the forsaken, Let it wake 'em,
In the dead of the night, you could hear the ground shaking like.
You could hear the ground shaking like…
You could hear the ground shaking like…
Verse Two
I've been told that revenge is one best served cold
But this night was sweltering,
No shelter in a city of the sin,
The sort of heat that can make your clothes stick to your skin,
But it made no difference to them.
They marched on
In row upon row that stretched like forever,
Not birds of a feather but they walked together,
Some in rags, some robes, some everyday clothes,
From every page out of the books, they rose,
The left behind, the long forgotten,
Some had watched from their villages as the bombs were dropping,
Some had their churches torched, their land was taken,
Knives in the back while hands were shaking,
Or maybe caught in the cross fire, strays from the weapons,
Or taught by the taunts to hate their reflection,
The evilest of acts, too depraved to mention,
I studied each face in succession.
Maybe sold out by a government, ignored by the reverend,
Betrayed by the people that were meant to protect 'em,
History books had done their best to forget them,
But tonight they'd rewrite from the strange procession.
And it was too late for redemption,
All manner of debts they'd came to collect 'em,
No tears left, just empty stares,
You see they took what was ours and now we're coming for theirs
