Soiled hands of work, to pit a nation's fall Skeletal hands upon the coffers of the Old World Ghosts of men, re-writing history Red ink, from the well of Martyrdom
Words to drip from the Traitors Tongues Waging a War between the Crimson lines The Old Heart of the Earth Divided, poisoned, ready for the fall
Valiant Men, made to wear the Devils Mask The Scapegoats for a New Age Such words will bear the Fruit of Flesh Today's innocence, tomorrow's finger on the trigger
So, who heralds the Grace of Fallen Empires? Hymns to the Ruination of Majesty He who inherits the Dark Crown of ill will The Scorn of those deemed Righteous Men
The Gauntlet thrown, the Baton tossed By statute, by law, by Divine Decree Impositions as kindling to the fire The old heart is beating, with ancient blood