Dawn of the sixteenth century
Rome the whore spreads wide her legs
For Luxury, Lechery,and their bloody corollary

Hypocrite town built on heathen grounds,
Welcome the foulest clan
Caesar, Rodrigo and Lucretia,
The orgiac Borgias

On the outside, the Duke Caesar is an accomplished gentleman,
But he's two-faced, his kindness is all on the surface,
And according to scandalmongers, he's even crueller than clever
Black eyes, black hair and dark velvet
Contrast with the cadaveric whiteness of his flesh

His father's nothing less than the Supreme Pontiff,
A master in the art to fornicate with the Immaculate,
A profligate, despite his functions - fraud of god -
Who meets fleshly Maries in a boudoir next to the sanctuary

These two baroque monsters share the same lust for power,
Seeking to reunite a divided Italy under their unique authority

They transform the court of Vatican in a place of delights and elegance
Where several crowned heads discover the corrosive virtues
Of a platter seasoned to poison

Campaign after campaign, they conquer;
Those who don't surrender are swiftly sent six feet under
With despotic politics and diplomacy,
They amass riches and resentment of many enemies

Amidst all this depravity, young Lucretia's an oasis of purity,
Although the noble mob and rightful crooks, skilled in sycophancy,
Covet her hymen through nebulous hymns

Slave of her malefic lineage, crushed by a ceremonial gown,
The poor child, used and abused,
Copes three alliances of tribulations

But soon, on an afternoon, after a dinner with a friend,
The pope suffers from severe stomach burns
Some days later, he dies in his bed full of sweat,
Leaving behind him only troubles and confusion
The empire he bequeaths to his son
Dissolves as dew under the sun

The House is abolished,
But the name remained in history
As a synonymous of treachery

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