Written by Amanda Rachwitz.

There’s a scent in the air,
One we’ve known too long,
It’s the dust of bones,
It’s our dead and gone,
There’s a scent that seeps from the siren song,
It’s the blood in the dirt that you’re marching on.

This is more than voice; not a mindless herd,
Every walking gun is his own in word,
Your game is done when we won’t obey,
What are kings and queens when the pawns won’t play?

There’s a case for fear,
And a right to run,
Now is not that time,
Now your time is done,
Every wakened mind holds a loaded gun,
Every mind we wake is a gun we’ve won.

This is more than voice; not a mindless herd,
Every walking gun is his own in word,
Your game is done when we won’t obey,
What are kings and queens when the pawns won’t play?

For so long we fell,
For the greatest lie,
Yet we stand here now,
In the truth we cry,
What began your end is what cannot die,
What will die today, is your living lie,

This is not just a noise, just a whisper in vain,
We are the end of the lie and its reign,
We are what stands when all else has to fall
We are beginning the end of it all
This ends today.

More than voice: not a mindless herd,
Every walking gun is his own in word,
Your game is done, we did not obey,
Saw it all fall down, saw it end today.

Red_sunset

 

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