I say we tell them as a rule,
Watch the courtrooms fill with fools,
Drowning in a pool of their own sweat.

March them through the streets,
Watch them shuffle their feet,
Give them a holiday they wona soon forget.

Oh, shackle them in chains,
And take away their names,
Beat them to the punch at their own game.

Villains, tricksters, swindlers, swine,
Sorry boys, ita feeding time,
The bell for you is about to chime.

Bring out your soul!
Your silver and gold!
Ita time for you to repay what you owe!
Youa e gotten off too long switching right and wrong,
Ita time for you to reap what you sow.

Terrified, terrified, thata how it feels inside,
With a body thata got no place left to hide,
All alone, all alone, I hear thata how the story goes,
Living by the book your sword wrote.

Oh, memorize your scars,
And count your lucky stars,
These young Hashani have lifted up the bar.

Now leta count!
One...two...three...four,
Ita time for us to even out the score!

Bring out your soul!
Your silver and gold!
Youa e gotten off too long switching right and wrong!
Ita time for you to reap what you sow!



Penned by my hand on the 8th of Lupar, in the year 953 AF.