| There is a growing | |
| Golden light | |
| a flower unfolding | |
| Behind the mirror of your eyes | |
| If an angel could hold up | |
| In his polished white hand | |
| I know he'd release it | |
| Like a bird to the sky | |
| Now you are a warrior | |
| Who will conquer this land | |
| On a horse made of clouds | |
| You will scatter the sands | |
| Some people say | |
| God is long dead | |
| But I heard something inside you | |
| With my head to your chest | |
| Within | |
| All the wrong | |
| They say | |
| I have done | |
| Their lies | |
| A seed | |
| Of a million more | |
| Just waiting to become | |
| Send them home | |
| Send them home | |
| Send them home | |
| Send them home | |
| Use your sword | |
| Use your voice | |
| And destroy | |
| And destroy | |
| Then begin again |
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