I've never considered myself a bird of ill omen
But that dog dies tomorrow
He said some things that he shouldn't have said
It reached my ears and now he's on the list of the doomed
The uncertainty was driving me crazy
It was eating me up bit by bit and even stealing my speech
Today that I have everything clear, where, when, and also how
He'll be short on back when I introduce him to the board
What he did isn't done, in fact it doesn't even have a name
I'm going to teach him to respect, I'm going to make him a man
When I have him in my claws, it'll be his lucky day
He'll leave with expenses paid
Sometimes I get bitter and sometimes I savor it
When I fantasize that I jab that pharisee in the ribs
With the tip of my rifle, tied hand and foot
After those stabs he'll go on to turn into a seed
Into a seed that no longer sprouts
Not with a flood nor with an irrigating jab
And I'm not even going to bother giving him dirt
So that the coyotes and the vultures can have a banquet
What he did isn't done and he did it anyway
I didn't want to stain my boots and today I'll fill them with mud
Let's see if he can take my claws when they rip out his soul
And like a bird of ill omen
And they say that every Alpha has its Omega
And today it's my turn to be both judge and party
Divine justice comes because it comes
And what I have in mind is simply art