The day Hades calls out my name,
When the breath of the sun tastes putrid,
Sing along one more song,
Raise your glasses to the dead, the gone,
The martyrs who died in trials of ghosts,
The lovers who died holding a single rose;
Cry that melody, scream the lyrics,
For one more life has been dragged out,
One more body to decay and replenish the dirt;
You may hate the rule, but you should kill the ruler.
The Evil King who sent out his army
To slay those who bring their voice;
His sword is sharp enough to murder;
Let his devils see my bloody shroud;
‘He killed me, He killed you’, I will yell;
Let my still heart rouse your beating one,
Adorn my pyre with weapons of yours,
Before the King slays your tongue.
The air is too thick with the smell of gore,
I can’t see if his armies are here yet,
But when I am dead, rowed over Styx,
Promise me you will fight,
Promise me you will sing,
Promise me you will sing to fight,
And fight to sing.
For Death is no more the Enemy,
But this Killer deserves Its embrace.