Armed with old illusions, warm glimmers of conspiracy

They spilled the flair of former glories, glints of shining victories

And in the face of marbled truths you went marching to your end

As if the crowning joy of life was to dress your body in her flag

Self-immolation

Maggie's proud old willing boys

Prostrate and strafed for numbing dreams, stay nestled in the pocket

Ruled by consent from a shroud of fear - if it ain't for you, it'll be all me

A show of strength for improvement: pure camouflage for dead solutions

Striving to be defined all for middling recognition

First up the ladder:

Let them rot

Mugged by ambition

Puppets of tradition

Plied with one hand

Worked by the other

Every dog will have its day

Conned again

Up on the hillside of morality

Are gifts nailed to crosses

Misplaced trust in loyalty

Self-immolation

Maggie's proud old willing boys

New-money turncoats

Maggie's proud old willing boys