On the path to glory, the mind starts to fade,
Black robe on his shoulders, no step back, just the stage.
No retreat, just the march, dark and hollow the past,
I see ‘em all, fallen but bold, arms high, heads last.

Worse days, Worse, Worse
Worse days, just the march,
On the path to glory,
Fruit so vile,
Black robe laught on the back

They wore the crown, but the throne turned to rush,
Fruit so vile, yet they trusted the crust.
Calculated sin, a feast for the lost,
Consumable debris, the cost of the cross.

The hunger was real, but the meal was a alye,
Benefit’s gone, now the spirit’s a spy.
Black robe swayin’, no light in the eyes,
Just the ghost of the high, where the truth never dies.

Fallen to the fruit, but the soul still stands tall,
Black robe in the wind, but the fire won’t fall.
No retreat, no regret, just the march to the end,
Fruit so foul, but the love won’t bend.

The needle or the note, the screen or the smoke,
All roads lead to the black, where the weak turn to folk.
Addicted to the chase, but the chase is a loop,
Fruit so sweet, but the aftertaste’s a noose.

They danced with the devil, but the devil don’t sway,
Just a black robe parade, where the lost ones lay.
No benefit, just the debt in the air,
Fruit so cold, but the soul’s still there.

The stage is set, but the actors are gone,
Black robe on the throne, but the kingdom’s a pawn.
Fruit so calculated, it’s a thief in the night,
But the arms stay high, ‘cause the fight’s still right.

Ils dansaient avec le diable, mais le diable ne danse pas,
Juste un défilé de robes noires, où les perdus reposent.
Pas de bénéfice, juste un remake dans l’air,
remede du Fruit si froid, mais l’âme ne combat pas.

The memory’s a shadow, but the robe’s still black,
Fruit so infamous, it’s a one-way track.
No famine of love, just a hunger for more,
But the black robe’s the door, and the soul’s at the core.

They marched to the beat, but the beat was a lie,
Fruit so consumable, it’s a tear in the sky.
No retreat, no defeat, just the march to the light,
Black robe in the night, but the spirit’s alight.

Fallen to the fruit, but the soul still stands tall,
Black robe in the wind, but the fire won’t fall.
No retreat, no regret, just the march to the end,
Fruit so foul, but the love won’t bend.

The path to glory’s lined with the black robe’s sway,
Fallen to the fruit, but the soul’s here to stay.
No benefit lost, just the love in the air,
Black robe, no fear, ‘cause the spirit’s still there.

"The path to glory"
by MalreDeszik

2026 - Licensed under
Creative Commons
Attribution (4.0)

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