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We are too old to cry, too young to die. |
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We're bound to the promise of better lives. |
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We're bought and sold, content to know, |
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That we'll never have to fight if we do what we're told. |
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We are warrior sons but we run from a cause, |
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That brings freedom and purpose and hope to us all. |
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We would rather be a product of the world and it's whims, |
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Than have the world be a product of the force of our wills. |
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RISE. And at the sound of our standing the earth will groan. |
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RISE. And we will break their backs. |
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And we will stretch for days and miles and years, |
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Pulled across the fabric of our hopes and fears. |
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We'll pay the price, the sacrifice. |
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Rebels and angels, a storm on white light. |
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Earth shakers, life takers, |
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Passion and purpose makes men of us all. |
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The slow rotting, the cancerous fear, |
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The corruption, we put a stop to it here. |
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Brothers in arms to me. |
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RISE. And at the sound of our standing the earth will groan. |
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RISE. And we will break their backs with the weight of our will. |
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Give us insurrection. |
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Give us something to say. |
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Give us thirst for vengeance. |
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And we will break their backs with the weight of our will. |
