Bounty on the Butcher

When I wrote “Price on His Head,” subtlety wasn’t on the menu. Politeness wasn’t even in the room. I was trying to capture the anger, frustration, and disbelief that millions of people around the world have felt for years watching the damage one man’s grip on power can do. The line between right and wrong is clear to me, and in this song, I make no apologies for choosing a side.

The track was inspired by Vladimir Putin and what his rule has represented for decades. Since taking power in Russia, he’s methodically eliminated real political competition. Independent media outlets have been shut down or forced to leave the country. Opposition figures have been jailed, poisoned, exiled, or mysteriously killed. Alexei Navalny, one of the most prominent opposition leaders, survived a near fatal poisoning in 2020. Journalists like Anna Politkovskaya and Dmitry Popkov were murdered for exposing corruption and human rights abuses. Rivals have “fallen” from windows. The message is always the same: challenge the throne, and you risk everything.

The wars tell the rest of the story. Chechnya was leveled during brutal campaigns in the early 2000s. Georgia was invaded in 2008. Crimea was annexed in 2014. Then, in 2022, the full scale invasion of Ukraine sparked the largest land war Europe has seen in generations. Cities like Mariupol, Kharkiv, and Bakhmut were reduced to rubble. Families were torn apart. Thousands have died. Millions have fled their homes. Entire regions became graveyards because one man chose conquest over peace.

So when I wrote, “I put a price on his head, let’s make it a game,” it’s about accountability. It’s about ending unchecked power. The “hunt” is a refusal to bow. The “price” is justice. The “game” is the world refusing to normalize tyranny.

I made it brutal on purpose. Lines like “Lock and load, time to play” and “Hunt the beast, make him pay” are my way of turning real world horror into music that hits like a punch. When bombs fall on cities, when journalists are silenced, when opposition leaders are killed in prison cells, soft language feels dishonest.

Calling him “Tzar” and “Butcher” isn’t just for shock; it’s a commentary on the cult of personality. It’s about leaders who see themselves as untouchable, who surround themselves with fear and loyalty, who treat nations like chessboards and people like expendable pieces. In the song, I turn that image into a villain in a dark arcade because sometimes the only way to process horror is to confront in the best way you can.

“One shot. Save the world.” That line isn’t fantasy; it’s about decisive change. It’s about the idea that history can pivot when power is confronted. It’s a refusal to accept that tyrants are permanent fixtures.

The track is also chaotic, violent, and twisted by design. Protest music doesn’t always have to mourn. Rage can become adrenaline. It can be explosive. It can feel like a boss battle soundtrack. That’s how anger turns into action, how despair can become energy.

At its core, “Price on His Head” is about a better world: one where fear doesn’t run governments, where critics aren’t poisoned, where journalists don’t disappear, where wars aren’t started to feed ego or legacy. While the song names one man, it’s about what he represents: authoritarian power, political violence, imperial ambition, and the machinery that protects it. If that machinery collapses, if that era ends, the world breathes easier.

This is Thorne Empire. This track is a scream against evil. A verdict. A call for accountability. It’s me channeling anger into art, saying what millions are thinking but can’t put into words. It's is about taking the crown off tyranny; however the world decides to do it.