One More Victim Alea Iacta Est
Sharp steel cuts a breathless body
Slender fingers go into flesh like snakes
Extract liver, squeeze a wheezing heart
Crimson blood flows on to the floor and the feet of the
waiting
Prophecies of an old oracle, beyond our generation and
time, escape his lips in Latin
In his eyes there's a demon of the future and his lips
express the meaning of the ritual
"The treasure you will find is washed with crimson blood,
It lies on the bones of your people that will fall.
To possess power, on the day of the sign, curse the land
with war between fathers and sons
The on who will light the star of death in time, will get
immortality and will open the gates of the Genesis
You are enemies to each other, everyone standing in the
room
The one who has ancient blood in his veins will be your
obstacle,
Your grave, your ending
Wearing a crown of gold and thorns he will sit down on a
throne in silence
Pointing the finger with a ring.
