The sins of the father and the son must be punished
Allow the juries hand to be corrupt and
Dispense their magical omnipotence.

But taste the finality of man as the hammer draws near
To consequence; and question
The strangers leer in corrupt composure.

The judges sweat melds to the handle, he grips
Hard to the justice of his resolve, as
It slips beneath the bench

And now to the audience, you decide
To solidify a man in a statue to justice or
Grant redemption and torments respite.
Because I put to you that,
the sins of the father and the son must be punished.