There's a melancholy wind blowing clouds across a darkened sky.
There's a beat and battered nation that doesn't know why
something's missing, a gaping hole in their restless heart.
Is it a missing piece of their soul that's tearing the nation apart?
Some who live there cry in frustration for what's been lost,
it's very purpose has gone, seemingly overnight, now they pay the cost
Now, like some sort of monster, it's reared its ugly head,
and spread its wings to fly, feeding on the hate that's being said.
Truth and justice, give us your tired and hungry,
are now just sayings on an eroding wall of the nightmare they see.
Others who live there move blissfully, blindly, on,
seeing only what they want to see, nothing is wrong.
Will they follow those who see something missing at their core,
or must they stagger on, sick and twisted, forever more?
They're lost children far from home, far from home,
haunted by a specter that echos ancient Rome?
Brought down by ambition, and misguided greed,
deaf to the screamed warnings that they failed to heed.