A whispering wind blows mournful over the scorched plains  Unnoticed by the ignorant masses the end has begun  Will the praised new leader be as foolish as his precursor  And will he gather total mischief around him to spread out?    Let this winter of our discontent be over  Finish the cruelty and embrace another day  Will we stay or are we condemned to fall?    A long awaited decision is about to be pronounced  Fate has been stressed for an awful long time  The judge of dusk stays back in preposterous rapture  He nourishes himself from solitude he likes to share    The whispering wind swells to a grinding roar  For the final battle they start to prepare  All hopes are torn apart by grim morbidity  The path to "hell" is paved with so many bad intentions    The winter of our discontent will never be over  Embrace the cruelty, let this be the last day  I want to fall, and you will too...      ("The Winter Of Our Discontent")