I used to rule the world,

seas would rise when I gave the word;

now in the morning I sleep alone,

sweep the streets I used to own.

I used to roll the dice,

feel the fear in my enemy’s eyes,

listened as the crowd would sing:

«Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!».

One minute I held the key,

next the walls were closed on me;

and I discovered that my castles stand

upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand.

I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringing,

Roman cavalry choirs are singing.

Be my mirror, my sword and shield,

missionaries in a foreign field.

For some reason I can’t explain

once you’d gone there was never,

never an honest word

and that was when I ruled the world.

It was a wicked and wild wind,

blew down the doors to let me in;

shattered windows and the sound of drums,

people couldn’t believe what I’d become.

Revolutionaries wait

for my head on a silver plate,

just a puppet on a lonely string.

Oh, who would ever want to be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringing,

Roman cavalry choirs are singing.

Be my mirror, my sword and shield,

my missionaries in a foreign field.

For some reason I can’t explain

I know St Peter won’t call my name;

never an honest word,

but that was when I ruled the world.

Oh, oh, oh...

Hear Jerusalem bells a-ringing,

Roman cavalry choirs are singing.

Be my mirror, my sword and shield,

my missionaries in a foreign field.

For some reason I can’t explain

I know St Peter won’t call my name;

never an honest word,

but that was when I ruled the world.