The law's the wooden beam upon your shoulder
The final paper gone into the folder
What dust left from our memories

The law is writ in blood on five great scrolls
The law is kept to letter as for thee it tolls
The law does not have eyes but sees

The law implores me as I call your name
Scripture tells me you shall feel the same
The book informs me you are lying

The law's a spirit skulking everywhere
Its sacraments go on for year and year
The law decides when we are dying

The law calls out another round
The law is present, felt, without a sound
Commanding fire in your soul and pen

The law has told you that you're wanted
It forgot to tell you: Streets are haunted
By bodies of once fearless memn

The law compels the workers' flesh to build
an altar for the bones of gods they killed
To your taste, monsieur Bastiat?

Those who know the law are far too certain
It instructs us to disclose their curtain
And find in that no guilt or pleasure

The law beseech thee: please be mine
Delicate in form as those eyes thine
Broken on my throne and grave of ice

The law is stillborn, dead and shattered
The law and all that ever mattered
The law is ash as Sorrow himself dies