The drunk desperate old times,
like fallen bricks don't live us more,
The sheath of foreign bliss did gather,
Since the forlorn begotten got his soul.
This is filthy witchery, said the town men,
For fire took her to her will
While their hearts danced,
to hymns of good intentions.
The multi ******* verse the false pretense,
The walls have enclosed a burried secret,
Yes, they fought for hands of gold,
They done it alright, a balance sought
Now they seek to govern mind and soul,
Well your tyrannical complex can't win,
Cause it's the witness of it all,
It is you me and all.