I hold the truth in the palm of my hand,
Turned to a fist,
And turned back inside you again…
The rebel may speak,
But alone shall he stand…
One may try to belittle the hatred,
But one cannot befriend.
All that was,
Will never be…
From all that came,
It shall soon begin again.
There will be fighting,
And nothing will be what it is…
The faint is nothing,
But all that has been…
Is something that can never be.
There is fighting,
But the blood never sleeps…
The inner soul of one,
Is undone and complete…
It’s a new year,
And there are more to come.
This is amendment number 700,
And we see the complacency…
Rhythm by the note,
In the note we see the dream.
In one thought I remember all those who never said a thing…
While in the other I see those lost in their dreams.
They have taken the oath,
As once have I…
But now they must harvest that, which is,
Before time gives up on us,
And decides who they will take…
Dead or alive!