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lyrics

They have arrived
From the night
It’s always night back home

Those streets feel no feet
For their retreat
Left just an earthy catacomb

Just breathe, the pilgrims wheeze
Tomorrow’s trees
Begin on your knees in loam

Bless, Ares, Lord
With your sword
Give them their iron reward to roam

Never should have happened, lucky that we even made it off
Thought we were the big fish and ignored the albatross

They now retire
To the fire
The choir drowns in smoke

Attack and kidnap
Their sole impact
No souls intact with hope

The great bird circled patiently as we guzzled down the bait
By the time we saw its shadow, it had darkened the whole sky with its hate

Two hundred thousand revolutions you would think could make us wise
But instead we justify our evils and in greed to hell we’ll rise

credits

from Copy The Stars / Music From The Brink, released July 25, 2020
Mother's Oven

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Mother's Oven Washington, D.C.

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