Pour It Down

Wise up, wise up, raise your glass. Wise up. Boots worn thin from factory grind. Sweat and chains, no peace to find. Busman's whip cracks through the day, but night falls hard. We break away. Pour it down, let the fire burn. Sing it loud, make the rafters turn. We're the storm they can't contain. Fist held high in the pouring rain. Hey-oh, we'll never bow. Drink to the fright. Here, here and now. No kings, no crowns, just us against the tide. Hearts ablaze with nothing left to hide. One more round, then we charge the line. Rebels born in the ale divine. Rebels born in the ale divine. Pour it down, let the fire burn. Sing it loud, make the rafters turn. We're the storm they can't contain. Fist held high in the pouring rain. Hey-oh, we'll never bow. Drink to the fright. Here and now. Hey-oh, we'll never bow. Pour it down, let the fire burn. Sing it loud, make the rafters turn. Hey-oh, we'll never bow. Drink to the fright. Here and now. Hey-oh, we'll never bow. Drink to the fright. Hey-oh, we'll never bow. Drink to the fright. Hey-oh, we'll never bow. Hey-oh, we'll never bow. Drink to the fright. Hey-oh, we'll never bow.