Running Wild

At the day of his coronation
He sank down in deepest dispair
Hundreds of russians were dying
By rapture, the sun and its glare
After several years of waiting
He came, the heir to the throne
Their son was born as a bleeder
His parents so sad and alone
The tsarina felt what was coming
A vision that darkened her soul
The tsar was given a warning
Intrigues so darkened and cold
Destiny called, the empire fell
The two-headed eagle that died
Bullets of hate were erasing their lifes
No prayer and nobody cried