He was born, then he was thorn In a speech of honor, in a land of worms To fulfill tradition, to fill the shoes Of corrupted rulers and blood-thirst fools Could one man make the difference? Could one man have made no difference? As the shadow of what he never was And the image of what he never wanted to be But it's time to grow Rule this empire, claim your throne Play the role of a god They're not your brothers anymore The spokesman learns to lead the audience Never quite saying what they want to hear But still his song, is much too strong and Soon we are marching with obedience Now turn to the soldiers, between attack and defense Suicidal fueled honor running up to their deaths Scrambling and screaming, bound by their roles What can be done now that the world is burning?