Under the dark sky, piled bodies
Remained from the previous battle
Ancestral spirits hover on your heads
Men remembered in the early years
And forgotten in the next millennia
Intolerance made us weak
Acceptance of wrong has destroyed our stories
Under the dark sky, piled bodies
Remained from the previous battle
Ancestral spirits hover in your heads
Men remembered in the early years
And forgotten in the next millennia
Intolerance made us weak
Acceptance of wrong has destroyed our stories
Reacting is revolutionary
And is expected by everyone, but is anyone
Willing to cross the line of fire?
