Ruled by a class corrupt at its core
Decisions are made on behind closed doors
Prey on the weak enlisting the poor
No idea what this fight is for
Armada sails seas run
Lights of the coast become clear
Awake to a nightmare of tyranny and hate
Decision of battle is near
Political swine biding their time
Echoes of anguish warping the mind
Provoking the masses with sick twisted lies
Flower of youth is cut down in its prime
Pray for the light
Nothing good comes of the dark
Foe we must smite
Too late for redemption
The dye has been cast
The lines have been set
Let the battle commence at the dawn