Sprinkled by the trappingsOf words that make the outlinesBlur on the showplace of made historyThe folk is willedTo parrot the dished up taleThe lure of a higher meaning
Cheat, you had to createAn enemy stereotypeTo retrieve your absolutionA forthy poor excuse for your forayTo disengage from the deepsOf your encumberance
BeholdAll our goldThousandfoldBereave me!DeclinedTruths ensignForever mine!Bereave me!
March in with ten legionsWhilst the crucial weapons not he pillumBut the feather held in your handPenned in bloodYour tall tales rule the forumAltering it into the battlefield
I, the spectral guiseEvoking these baring fearsPestering your conscript fathersI smile at my demise and while I dieI cherish the roots of my perseverance