The empire wants to be God on Earth with dominion over all, except-- its scriptures were written in hell by the Devil himself. It is the Mafia don applying for sainthood on his mother's grave, while nearby tombstones speak the truth. It is the singed Icarus Flying low, Flying slow, Drowning In the acrid smoke of its hubris It is the stuttering jabber Of walking cadavers, In the dark of halls of flailing power Where no lie is left untold.
The empire's last dance among the ruins
The empire's last dance among the ruins
The empire's last dance among the ruins
The empire wants to be God on Earth with dominion over all, except-- its scriptures were written in hell by the Devil himself. It is the Mafia don applying for sainthood on his mother's grave, while nearby tombstones speak the truth. It is the singed Icarus Flying low, Flying slow, Drowning In the acrid smoke of its hubris It is the stuttering jabber Of walking cadavers, In the dark of halls of flailing power Where no lie is left untold.