Assassin like Creed, we tip toe on the knife's edge.
Call to cash in, get ahead with like bread.
Bled to death, the King falls to the ground.
Everyone looking around, while a few look proud.
Reincarnation wins, the faith in is like Druze.
People on their deathbeds, then look kinda confused.
We Red Kingú, will watch their last breaths.
As the new Red Tail Hawk lays eggs in her new nest.
The best is still to come, our energy sustains.
We do it because of God, and the love of the game.
Engrained like thoughts, the new bird then flew.
Cold blooded ways, like living in a igloo.
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