Sing for me child,
retell the tales you've heard.

Kiss and told whipsers behind closed doors and hushed voices.

On the lips of love slipped the idea of betrayal.

No ringing of the bells tonight;
no praying for the royal blood to be split tonight.

I've got blood on my mind and a knife in my hand,
The queen drank her death at the feast;
now I come from the king-rid the country of the fatted beast.

Let the halls run with blood, may it flow down the stairs.

Sedition.
Tradition.

When one royal bloodline fails it's people- the people strike back.

Attack.

No more ringing bells for the prince and his sister.

We've silenced the guards, dead where they stood.

The first minister sleeps forever- hung by his hood.

Innocent blood- there is none here tonight.