The Song of Syx:

There's poop, there's gore, there's crises galore
Hippie orc communes or industrialist dwarves
Some random old giants who hail from up north
And accounting and taxes to manage of course

Sing the Songs of Syx
Strike the Earth with your picks
From Squire to Emperor
In a matter of weeks

Human office drones which don't even get paid
Strip-mine your lands, spend the profits they made
Send legions of insects on a bloody crusade
And raid your poor neighbors until all are enslaved

Educational programs, new sewers and roads
Millions of bodies toiling hard for the crown
Your capital growing, grander walls and deep moats
Many must fall till the world is your own

The Song of Syx: There's poop, there's gore, there's crises galore Hippie orc communes or industrialist dwarves Some random old giants who hail from up north And accounting and taxes to manage of course Sing the Songs of Syx Strike the Earth with your picks From Squire to Emperor In a matter of weeks Human office drones which don't even get paid Strip-mine your lands, spend the profits they made Send legions of insects on a bloody crusade And raid your poor neighbors until all are enslaved Educational programs, new sewers and roads Millions of bodies toiling hard for the crown Your capital growing, grander walls and deep moats Many must fall till the world is your own