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SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE
Behold the King, the King of Kings.
On your knees dog. All hail.
Bow down to the, bow down to the King.
Bow down to the, bow down to the King.
The King grinned red as he walked from the blaze,
Where the traitor lost both his name and his face.
Through the halls and the corridors stinging in blood,
He tasted his grin and it tasted good.
The King took his head.
Left him broken and dead.