In velvet rooms and marble halls
They lean against the ancient walls
With trembling hands and eyes of glass
They watch the seasons fail to pass
They count the gold, they count the gain
But never count the cost of pain
The world is just a ledger book
Where they take more than they ever took

Oh the unwise old men
With the world inside their pen
They light a fire just to feel the heat
While the earth crumbles beneath our feet
Years on their skin, but none in their soul
They break the world to keep control
Unwise old men Playing God again

A map is just a piece of sheet
For boots to march and hearts to beat
They don’t see faces, they see lines
Deep in the dark of power’s mines
They talk of peace while forging chains
Feeding the dry earth with the rains
Of tears and smoke and bitter gray
They steal the light of every day

When they are dust and the crowns are rust
What will be left of the lives they crushed?
The silence screams their name aloud
A legacy wrapped in a hollow shroud
They leave a desert and call it "peace"
Waiting for their own release

Oh the unwise old men
With the world inside their pen
They light a fire just to feel the heat
While the earth crumbles beneath our feet
Years on their skin, but none in their soul
They break the world to keep control
Unwise old men Playing God again

Not sages
Just shadows
Not leaders
Just ghosts
Counting their coins
On a sinking coast
Unwise...
Unwise...
Old men