The time is nigh
When construction will cease
The architects will fall from their posts
And the scaffolds shall come tumbling down.

The slaves' backs are splintered
From the grave weight of their tasks
Each man and each woman dropping their burdens
They flee from the nefarious construct
That they themselves created.

Those bound to the failing ways
Fling themselves to the earth in desperation
Sealing their fate in green painted coffins
At the feet of this nefarious construct
We shall wait for the new dawn.

At the first light we rise
Hammers and wrenches held high
Stripping the nuts and smashing the walls
Flinging shards of false culture aside.

The grave weight of our task
Lifted from us
We tear down the citadel
And plant new seeds in her flesh.

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