All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Goin' nowhere, goin' nowhere
Alfred was sitting with a glazed expression while England spoke. This meeting was pointless. Their argumenst were trivial. He hated this existence. They were semi-immortal and had unique powers. They did nothing with their great power. No responsibility. No purpose…
Their tears are fillin' up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
Gilbert drinks his beer, pressing the cool glass to translucent skin. He is not a nation. He is just a memory. He was once an Order of healers and warriors. He was a nation. And now… Now he is nothing but a page in the history books. He blinks and rubies glisten as he knocks back the lager.
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dyin'
Are the best I've ever had
Ludwig is still as sweat beads on his brow, his breathing deep and even. Inside his dreams, there are screams and cries of agony and despair. His red life flows freely as his eyes cloud over. He is dead. His body is riddled with bullets from allied powers. He is drowning in the sea as his U-boats were sunk. He was shot by his own people and mutilated for the triangle he should have worn. At five he will wake at the sound of his alarm, but for now he dies. And in some dark part of his heart, he wishes that he will never wake up.
I find it hard to tell you
'Cause I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad world, mad world
Mad world, mad world
Ivan is crying as his house creaks silently. Anastacia and Alexei and Ivan and Peter and Joseph and Vladimir and so many are gone. He will never speak to them again. They were not always the best. But they did what needed to be done to make him strong. But now he is not strong anymore. Where has his strength gone? Where is his family and the friends he had made?
Children waitin' for the day they feel good
Happy birthday, happy birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sits and listen, sits and listen
Feliciano sings to himself softly. Today is the day that Holy Roman Empire is supposed to have come. Italy doesn't mind that he's late. He still bakes the sweets that will go uneaten today. He promised. He'll come back some day. It doesn't matter that he died. Even Grandfather Rome came back to visit.
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson?
Look right through me, look right through me
Matthew is a silent observer. He can't help himself. He has tried. Oh, how he has tried. But he is a ghost. He calls out and he sees the ripple of confusion. He has given up his attempts at being seen. And he hates it. He holds his bear closer and lets the tears fall silently.
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dyin'
Are the best I've ever had
Yao is old. So old and so tired. He has forgotten how to die. He has seen so many fall and knew how they did it. When he was younger, he made sure to do what he could to force himself to live. But now he dreams of a slow dissolution, the relief that the end will bring. And knows that only in dreams will he be able to join the only woman he had ever truly loved. His greatest Warrior and his only wife.
I find it hard to tell you
'Cause I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad world, mad world
Mad world, mad world
Lovino sits on his chair, glaring at the Dons as they smirk at him like they know better than he. He who is older than any of their grandfather's grandfathers. He could kill them all just by unleashing the brunt of his Nationhood on them. He could drive their minds to insanity by forcing them to See what he is.
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dyin'
Are the best I've ever had
Sadik is old. He is a Middle-East nation. But not really. He was there when Byzantine was still strong. He was a gangly teen. He had grown into his length by the time Magyar and Teuton had solidified. Now he sits in his house and sneaks over to Germany's to make him Döner kebabs and smokes his cigarettes and drinks Kahve. He dreams of combat and a moon reflecting in a pool of blood. And he dreams of how the final darkness will give him the peace he has never really felt.
I find it hard to tell you
'Cause I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad world, mad world
Mad world, mad world
A raunchy young world
Mad world
Francis is a man of extremes. He muses idly while the blue tendrils leak from his companion's lips. The kiss will taste like cigarettes and menthol, but he doesn't mind. He smiles sadly, knowing that tomorrow will be a bloodbath. The people have no bread. And they cannot yet have cake. They are unhappy and the royals are too decadent. They were doomed as soon as that treaty was signed and creating a new nation, under God, with no king to rule it.