The First Account

The final ledger's open, and the ink is drawn in shame.

For every silenced breath, for every unsaid name.

The disregard for life is not error, it's a structural disease

that travels on the current of complacent ease.

The lawman's shadow falls, cold and unchecked, across the floor;

a uniform of violence that we've seen a thousand times before.

They trade their oaths for cruelty, their power for the pain

and the only truth that matters is the terror in the lane.

WE ARE THE AUDIT OF THE SILENCE, THE FINAL, UNCOMPROMISING SUM;

THE FUCKING RECKONING IS HERE, AND IT'S FINALLY BEGUN.

SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND SIT DOWN, OPEN UP YOUR MIND,

APOLOGIZE AND MAKE THINGS RIGHT; WELCOME TO HELL, YOU MIGHT LIKE IT HERE TONIGHT.

They trade the easy hate online, the poisoned, adolescent rage

fueling the brittle killers who are trapped inside the cage.

The cost of self-identity is the ultimate, final flaw

and the system is a puppet for the men who write the law.

Go do business with the devil, 'cause the devil's got the purse;

this is the only language that can finally break the curse.

WE ARE THE AUDIT OF THE SILENCE, THE FINAL, UNCOMPROMISING SUM;

THE FUCKING RECKONING IS HERE, AND IT'S FINALLY BEGUN.

SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND SIT DOWN, OPEN UP YOUR MIND,

APOLOGIZE AND MAKE THINGS RIGHT; WELCOME TO HELL, YOU MIGHT LIKE IT HERE TONIGHT.