The End
If you select him, it is The End
The country dies in his tiny hands
Killed by a madman
A spawn of Satan
Insane
Unhinged
Full of revenge
And utter hatred
We will die
Within the camps
That he creates
By the help of cultists
Who follow his every foolish lead
Through the swamps
In retribution
And sheer destruction
“How did we get here?” you might ask
As you lift your eyes above your phones
And notice the dark clouds hovering low
“Doesn’t he love us?” you might ask
When you unfurl your flags
Not knowing what they stand for
His evil intent is to force us all
To bend to his will
Like some kind of god
A messiah, no, just a traitor is he
The lunatic fool
Who wants to make standard
A flag marked in letters
Labeled with his own name
If you select him, we will never recover
From the rubble he leaves
From the fear, from the agony
Of watching your families destroyed
So heed my words,
Beware of the madman
Dictatorial ambitions
His goal is to consume us all.
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