Thief, when you're ready…
the vaults unlocked,
and the tax collector is gone.
Thief, when it's lawful,
and health for their sons…
feast until there's none.
The dirt will fill our lungs.
Your republic is failing.
Your empire is dead.
Their gardens are blooming.
They will read again.
They'll surely tear their nets,
and they will mend.
Thief, when you're wasted,
you're fully alive.
You will realize we are alike.
And I can eat like a child never chooses to die.
Madam when your fragrances run dry,
where will you hide?
How fair, how fair, how fair, how fair.
Let us cleanse our lungs…until you see my blood.