These streets singe my feet
Each cobblestone feels like burning coal
I duck in and out of cover
Trade my arms for a full night's rest
The morning comes like a westbound storm
I feel flayed and removed of life
Footmen gather like moths to a flame
To protect the illusion of a king and queen
Stark naked in my soul
I smudge dirt upon this solemn face
There's atrophy in the hearts of this dominion
But a coup d'état in these eyes of mine
Stay out of sight and wait
A new blood is running through my veins
By nightfall, the flags will be tattered
By tomorrow, the illusions will be clear