The snakes and arrows a child is heir to Are enough to leave a thousand cuts We build our defenses, a place of safety And leave the darker places unexplored
Sometimes the fortress is too strong Or the love is too weak What should have been our armor Becomes a sharp and angry sword
Our better natures seek elevation A refuge for the coming night No one gets to their heaven without a fight
We hold beliefs as a consolation A way to take us out of ourselves Meditation or medication A comfort ,or a promised reward
Sometimes the spirit is too strong Or the flesh is too weak Sometimes the need is just too great For the solace we seek The suit of shining armor Becomes a keen and bloody sword
A refuge for the coming night A future of eternal light No one gets to their heaven without a fight
Confused alarms of struggle and flight Blood is drained of color By the flashes of artillery light No one gets to their heaven without a fight The battle flags are flown At the feet of a god unknown No one gets to their heaven without a fight
Sometimes the damage is too great Or the will is too weak What should have been our armor Becomes a sharp and burning swordTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
