Presumption of Guilt

I'm no Stilicho
 I refuse to spend my life
 Trying to prove what I am
 And let's suppose that
 Some would speak on my behalf
 Wouldn't the end be the same?
 The verdict fills
 A case already built
 A conviction from the womb
 And guts that spill the pus, thus
 The birth of justice comes
 In the end
 The ends just seem
 To favor who controls the means
 Isn't it odd?
 The odds are even
 Though we can't ever
 Feel this karma twist
 Rise and fall
 And so I've chosen to be skeptical
 It may take a while
 Take lives away
 This undesirable masquerade
 If this day comes
 Be prepared
 To play the part alone
 All on your own
 Heroes in statues
 Their names, well-known
 Name the streets abroad
 From downtown to the ones
 That They've never passed by
 When they're gone, is it for real?
 Who will stand up to reveal
 To remind
 What the myths can also hide?
 Who decides what's right and wrong?
 Is it just a matter of perspective after all?
 Soul sobers
 What comes along with the wage labour?
 Who will wait for the prize
 And spend a lifetime?
 Thorns and shortcuts will appear
 Winners, riches, speeches
 Though dull
 Deep down
 Haunt everyone
 Hunting high and low