The Empire Maker warms his feet. Seems content there by the fire.
His thoughts are now in the street, though he’s aiming for just higher.
He is speaking now in quiet tones. They take in every word.
Nothing left to chances, no lines that will be blurred.
Their actions will be final and break the quiet of the night.
By the river, in the shadows, just before the Sabbath light.
Some had plans that just took to long. In their minds to kill a king.
Took the time to talk to much and the hell that that can bring.
Now there’s nothing but that fire, and some memories and smoke.
The story tellers have their myths and jokers have a joke.
The wise man has his silence and the peace that that can bring.
In the valley of the blind where the one eyed man is king.
