Coronets rest on a death's head mask
No-one is safe while the curfew lasts
But [bad word] orbs glitter, scepters gleam
While helmets of blood fill the screen

They look away
And then they say
"For the good of the land"
For the love of the man"

Standing alone
Sitting alone
On the throne
Of the regal zone
 
Old limbs hang in the torture room
While old kings hang in the portrait room
Their noble eyes gaze on the uneasy dance
Of the squirming body on the marble plate

They look away
and then they say
"For the good of the land"
for the love of the man"

Standing alone
Sitting alone
On the throne
Of the regal zone