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Through the clouds of |
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Allen ash, a lonely mother's cry |
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Among the fields of broken glass the loyal few will arise |
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Faith now regained |
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Finding strength within the void, a raging fire ignites |
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Spark of ever-burning power and conviction to fight |
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Pride be your name |
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They will spit upon the honor that you guard with your life |
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And run to hide in selfish fear when threat of death is in sight |
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Lay down your shame |
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Armed with resistance and blind to the cost |
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They say, your purpose is mindless and lost |
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But we don't adhere to the slander they spill |
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We mourn with your losses and stand, stand by your will |
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These tears we spill, they haunt us still |
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Cries of the weak lie quiet in sleep beneath our feet |
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These tears we spill, they haunt us still |
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Cries of the weak lie quiet in sleep beneath our feet |
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We are the sons of |
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Holy Wrath, a shining light in the dark |
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The ones who walk amongst despair, no sign of fear in our hearts |
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Stand in death's way |
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Shut out the voice of mindlessness, open your eyes to the truth |
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Believe the words that stand the test and not the slurs of the youth |
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You're not what they say |
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Armed with resistance and blind to the cost |
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They say, your purpose is mindless and lost |
|
But we don't adhere to the slander they spill |
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We mourn with your losses and stand, stand by your will |
|
These tears we spill, they haunt us still |
|
Cries of the weak lie quiet in sleep beneath our feet |
|
These tears we spill, they haunt us still |
|
Cries of the weak lie quiet in sleep beneath our feet |
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Turn over the tables and watch them run |
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You'll be the weapon they can't outrun |
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Turn over the tables and watch them run |
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You'll be the weapon they can't outrun, go |
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These tears we spill, they haunt us still |
|
Cries of the weak lie quiet in sleep beneath our feet |
|
These tears we spill, they haunt us still |
|
Cries of the weak lie quiet in sleep beneath our feet |
|
These tears we spill, they haunt us still |
|
Cries of the weak lie quiet in sleep beneath our feet |
|
These tears we spill, they haunt us still |
|
Cries of the weak lie quiet in sleep beneath our feet |
