I am the offspring of resignation

Adopted by the fires of discontent

Optimism becomes an opiate

Survival and glory to the brave

Struggle stirs the human spirit

Kept keen on the grindstone of tiol

Pain and fear light the fire

But how high to stoke the flame

Burn

Can the sheep be awakened

I see signs of life flicker and die

Countless as the stars are our choices

The road has forged before us now choose

Not this time

A new way must be forged

Forged to or from hell we choose

Salvation just within reach

But how high must we stoke the flames

Burn

Burn

Burn

The sanctimonious rabble cries louder

Opposition for its own sake

All caught within this maze

How many wolves are there among us

If dissipline is born through struggle

Where is it now

Unconscious and buried by apathy

A cleansing firestorm gathers and grows

The cloudness nightsky glows at the horizon

But the zenith remains black as pitch

Silent flashes like summer lightning

Dawn approaches the morning

Horned moon rises

This morning will be like no other

Firestorm awaits beneath the skyline

Awaits to consume our timid world

Because it's time to burn again

Thunder sounds a warning

But no one stirs to rise

Silence descends like a funeral shroud

A final chance passes

The firestorm consumes the dead

Burn

Burn

Burn

White phosphorous flames reaching higher

Heaven chokes on the smoke

Mesmerised by the light of their own death

Burning out forever

The dust borne by the wind

Slash and burn and slash and burn and

Turn to fire