The book of broken promises knows your name too well,

Each entry lodged against you is a weight upon your back,

Empty words are spoken as you map your route to Hell,

Each falsehood that is uttered is a step along that track.

 

Each time you chose to profit from the losses of another,

Each time you chose to sell yourself as something that you're not,

Each time you sent a Son to war to fight beside his brother,

And when the fight was over allowed them both to be forgot.

 

And as you sit at banquet tables musing on your greatness,

And eat your fill of spoils that were bought with others blood,

It doesn't matter how much you pronounce your conscience weightless,

You stand upon their backs as they lay rotting in the mud.

 

But remember sorry fool, for all your stolen treasures,

If you let the lust for power trap you in its spell,

All your tawdry little sins cannot escape the ledger,

And the book of broken promises knows your name too well.