Verse 1

Lucian Vale, black signet, cold champagne

Whole court holds its breath when I say a name

Crown cut from an age no book can hold

Gold on the table, but my hands stay cold

I keep red ledgers where the old kings sleep

Every oath I collect, every debt runs deep

Then you walk in, chin high, unafraid

And the room forgets the price I made

Pre-Chorus

I can turn a war with a lifted hand

Make the proudest soul understand

But you look at me like I’m only a man

And I hate how much I want that

Chorus

King of Hell, let the whole world bow

I own every throne, but I need you now

Call me cruel, call me cursed, call me vain