When I fell into the deepest gloom

You've stabbed me in the back and imposed on me

Cain killed his brother out of spite

You've abused me and drained my life

A scorching sun arose and burned your remains

The grumble of your greed turned to ash

Forevermore

You wear the stigma of spite

To remind you of your treachery

Dystopia is a memorial

To the ones that share your greed

''Such was the wicked murd'rer Cain

And such by nature still are wе

Until by grace we're born again

Malicious, blind and proud, as hе.''

''The saints, in every age and place

Have found this history fulfilled;

The numbers all our thoughts surpass

Of Abels, whom the Cains have killed!''