The Anvil Of Justice Is Planted Firm,

Old Men Are Children Once Again A Dream That Sways And Wavers Into The Hard Light Of Day.

There Is No Pain So Great As The Memory Of Joy In Present Grief.

Since Long I've Held Silence A Remedy For Harm.

For There Is No Defense For A Man Who, In The Excess Of His Wealth, Has Kicked The Great Altar Of Justice Out Of Sight.

When The Black And Mortal Blood Of Man Has Fallen To The Ground ... Who Then Can Sing Spells To Call It Back Again?