Forget what you’re told
the world isn’t all sunshine,
the world isn’t all rainbows,
It’s bitter, it’s cold.

Many an old eyes carry a thirst
of a day of glory,
of a day of victory.
They burn with blood-lust.

Look as you pass them.
Their overflowing bank accounts,
their countless hounds,
to them, it’s just a game.

The want of power,
is a desperate desire.
Flowers that shall blossom tomorrow
are but… a satire.

Everywhere you’ll see terror.
It’s been placed there,
by the ones above you, burn it!
Burn it for the wayfarer.

Remember, remember,
they control your day,
they control your body,
But your thoughts, they can’t dismember.

Burn them! Though…
They’re not against you
They are for themselves.
You… are not for you
You are… for them.

So when they speak of a light,
that night that shone.
They’ll fear the power of one man.
It was… your Vendetta
Yours… and Yours alone!