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We've fostered hope from holy ground,
Bled the willing and righteous,
Tasted light returning hollow shade,
Burned the bones in shallow grave.

Ignited, Then made to heel,
Fall lifeless, This spinning wheel.

Eris, Come seed the apple.

If the damned may find glory, Listless and wary tethered by the sound.
Consuming mice and men, Even gods led astray
Hands that trace the ashes, Make a mark to all obey.

As the poles reversed, The oceans heave and boil.
And the plague cauterized, Bring heads to rest among the soil.

The wicked and clean, share the gallows.
Abscess, obsess, regress, fed so it grows.
This malice is luxury, The weight of worlds borne.
Kings made by lottery, condemned to the throne.

If the ship is righted, With ten cent flame,
Will the fire mean less now, As the savages claim.

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