He was born, then he was thorn
In a speech of honor, in a land of worms
To fulfill tradition, to fill the shoes
Of corrupted rulers and blood-thirst fools
Could one man make the difference?
Could one man have made no difference?
As the shadow of what he never was
And the image of what he never wanted to be
But it's time to grow
Rule this empire, claim your throne
Play the role of a god
They're not your brothers anymore
The spokesman learns to lead the audience
Never quite saying what they want to hear
But still his song, is much too strong and
Soon we are marching with obedience
Now turn to the soldiers, between attack and defense
Suicidal fueled honor running up to their deaths
Scrambling and screaming, bound by their roles
What can be done now that the world is burning?