|
We'll rise again |
|
We'll rise again |
|
We'll start again |
|
Like they rose from the dead again, |
|
Such thoughts move straight through their head again, |
|
Blessed as the children of men, |
|
Who saw that swords strike less that the pen. |
|
Surfacing from primordial waters |
|
We are the sons and daughters of |
|
Rawkus, Take your pretence to the slaughter, |
|
Leave adversaries hung, drawn in quarters. |
|
As we awoke that morning, yawning, |
|
Blessed with a new skin forming, |
|
Eyes squinting, claret still pouring, |
|
Fists clenched, grasping, crying out calling, |
|
Lungs gasping, absorbing endorphin, |
|
We this unsuccessful abortion, |
|
Spartan spawn, sworn, |
|
Raised for warring, |
|
All told and we're reborn again. |
|
I don't need their eyes on me, |
|
I don't need no sympathy. |