The ides of March the knives go in
The king is dead from assassins
When power it is up for grabs
Then murder to them is not mad

You'll end up lying in your grave
Power it does so deprave
You'll end up lying in your grave
They'll risk it all to power slaves

Slaves

They don't care if you’re right or wrong
They'll kill the weak respect the strong
For if you’re bad or if you’re good
It's power only that's understood

You'll end up lying in the soil
They'll risk it all for power toil
They'll mourn you at your death
Mouth their grief poisonous breath

Slaves

You'll end up lying in your grave
Power it does so deprave
They’ll risk it all to power slaves
You'll end up lying in the soil

They'll risk it all for power toil
They'll mourn you at your death
Mouth their grief poisonous breath

Slaves

To power each one is a whore
Your guts lie bleeding on the floor
One day their turn will come to cry
And then in terror piss and cry

You'll end up lying in your grave
Power it does so deprave
You'll end up lying in your grave
They'll risk it all to power slaves

Slaves

But now they murder, murder me
Leave me on the floor to bleed
They murder without regret
For power all things
Do forget

Slaves
They are slaves