Requital Lyrics

I will be a poison if I cannot be a cure
We who were so many flowers
Will become a thousand thorns
Revenge as active mourning,
For all the extinguished flames
We will launch fresh fire
At the few who are to blame;
The few who hoarded everything From us many who lost it all,
A spiteful pull
At a thread of wool
That would see the shirt now spoiled.

And if am going to burn
Then you are going to burn
For the wasting of all the world
Is a punishment you have earned.
I'll drip my blood in to spike the wine,
A kick at the wheel, and a thorn in your eye,
I will piss into the gears,
Soil their halls of work and toil,
A spiteful pull
At a thread of wool
That would see the shirt now spoiled.

The men who stole our lives
Can not be allowed to enjoy their prize,
A spiteful pull
At a thread of wool
Will see the shirt now spoiled.