The Ides of March

Caesar, beware these days

I pray thee, beware these days

A vision, comes to the seer

It fills my brain

I see your pain

The nineteenth, nineteenth of march

I see you’ve marked the ides of march

Kiss of the queen, bite of the snake

I see your treachery filled fate

Go, run and fly free, your future I see

Dark blades you must flee

Go run and fly free, bad magic’s to be

fly free

Your friends, you thought so dear

They plot your death, your death’s so near

In the dark, I see their faces

Such twisted faces, I see their faces

The magic, once strong and true

It seems to fade, fade from you

The strange ones, have now come

They’ve come, coming for you

I see them gathered all around you

You sense their greetings false

The smell of treachery sears the air

I see you lying in your blood