Texty: Cataract. For Their Sins.

walk away with small fines, assassination still in mind
Covered by the military reign, rules the world, rules with pain
served your own beloved country, fought against religious poverty
You just did it, with all your will, implanted the urge, the urge to kill
You played master and servant the king of prison you were called
On their knees you made them walk, there was no need for any talk
You liked to punish them for their sins, beaten to death, with every breath
With open eyes they let you do got you away with murder too
Got you away ! Murder too !