Book II — Chapter III: wherein DICK O’SUILLEABHAIN, his hands stained crimson by the blood of foes past and present, begins to feel the first tremors of doubt stir within him; and wherein the pirate, long given to vice and slaughter, questions for the first time the path he has chosen, wondering whether a life of wickedness and murder may yet bear a reckoning too heavy even for a soul as hardened as his… [Intro – clean guitar only] (clean electric guitar, slow arpeggios in E minor, deep reverb. Low bass fades in after four bars. A distant rumble — wind, storm, or guns.) [Verse 1] My enemy — you’re lyin’ there in blood, My enemy — you were just a kid, just flesh and mud. Why are you here? For a dollar dream? For a mad old man who pulled the string? For a prayer no god has heard, For a world that never cared your word? (low distorted guitars swell — tension builds but holds) [Chorus 1] You should’ve stayed home with your mother, You should’ve stayed close to your lover, You should’ve stayed for your children’s eyes — My enemy… my enemy… my enemy. (drums in full, bass warm, vocals strained and raw) [Verse 2] My enemy — I’m drownin’ in your blood, My enemy — your stare’s a hollow flood. Why am I here, killin’ someone’s sons? Dreamin’ of freedom that never comes? Why am I here, covered in blood, Pushed by the wind of fate above? (clean lead guitar with echo — ghostly tone) [Chorus 2] I should’ve stayed back with my father, I should’ve gone and found a lover, I should’ve had a child to see, Instead of chasin’ enemies… enemies… (heavy riff, layered guitars, toms rolling under “enemies”) [Bridge] Maybe in another life — I’d buy you a beer, Maybe we’d have laughed, been brothers here. Dreamin’ of killin’ the old mad kings, Dreamin’ we could change a thing… (clean guitar arpeggios return, half-whispered vocals) [Solo – instrumental] (distorted lead guitar with wah, long bends and reverb — drums march-like, bass trembles low — builds tension toward the final break) [Fade outro] But those old fools — they never die! They dream of bein’ gods on high! They send us sailin’ through the storm, Through oceans made of tears and blood… With guns in hand, we kill their sons, Crawlin’ through filth, still cryin’ on! Playin’ their wars, and dyin’ blind — Don’t dream, you’re mortal, lost in time. (last line whispered, guitars fade, final E minor chord — long decay) [End] (amp buzz, low hum fading to silence.)
