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I was the firstborn son of a firstborn son |
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In the wake of family tragedy |
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After fruitless years I was the chosen one |
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To plant the flag of destiny |
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To eyes who saw what they had seen |
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I was a screaming, bloody symbol |
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Of life and what it once had been |
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Before the marching crush of evil |
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I was the firstborn son of a firstborn son |
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We prayed each night to the risen God |
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For our loved ones health and safety |
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Then we locked the doors and windows up |
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So there was no danger and we were not free |
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The big, bad world was on the hunt |
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And its dogs were fixed on our scent |
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Clouds of fear may block the sun |
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Still the earth remains in orbit |
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God, help the man who helps himself! He needs no other devil |
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Give us courage now to say farewell to this fear and watch it crumble |
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I've worked a job since I was twelve years old |
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A student of the middle class of America |
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Pull up your bootstraps, baby, you're on your own |
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You are what you have and you don't have much |
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The manna rained down from the sky |
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And I looked for explanation |
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Moses walked the sea bone dry |
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In my father's generation |
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And this firstborn son won't stop asking why |
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Why!?! |
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God, help the man who helps himself! He needs no other devil |
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Give me courage now to face myself and dance as these walls crumble |
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Torn down by the blood of a firstborn son |
