So rapid the raptors, as coursers they came
all the scratching and screaming, I barely escaped
while the fuel cells they drained far too fast, I am dragged
like worms on a hook through the hole to the blackness beyond
at the end of days, where the world bleeds and burns
The sun is black as sackcloth made of hair
the stars have fallen to the Earth, mountains tearing from the ground
look at these people hiding from the red raindrops
while earthquakes shake the broekn time of this burning town
There's poison in the water, the ocean's blood that turned to slime and gotten hard
all the fish and whalres are corpes on the scab
in the darkness soldiers gnaw their tongues in pain, you see
so help me God, at the end of time they're screaming on their knees
oh let them die! oh let them die!
"The wrath of the Lamb!" the martyrs cry
"break the seven seals, let the horsemen ride!"
The soldiers bear the royal crest and scream into the sky
"He will come He will come! the Dragon's on the rise!"
"The King survived though his throat was cut, they say he's the chosen one
He leads our mean from Babylon, the rebellion's worldly son
Agasint the Tyrant, we have joined with him as soldeirs"
He tells me this while he shakes a bit - he's staring at his gun
The painful stings of flying things have worn away his flesh and popped at his eyes
At the blackness, he lashed out and cries:
"You cowards and your wrathful God will see what power means
when the Dragon comes-His will be done-in the fires you'll be cleaned
Oh let him rise!
Oh let him rise!"
I was these people fall
the dragon shrieks and burns it all
I flip the circuits on, I've got dragons of my own
The portal glows and my machines destroyed
"The Traveler has saved their souls from the Destroyer of Worlds
Then why does his heart still scream? Rise and speak"
I couldn't save her, I know she will die
But please, if I could only tell her goodbye
All I want is just one more day
that morning in May...
I've fought reptilian monsters
I've crossed a bloody see
just to meet you here
and now i'm coming home, my dear
the light is warm, outside at dawn
the garden has no weeds, no grave beneath the tree
through the silent house, my love after all
cruled up in a ball, there you are
Writer/s: Andrew Volpe / Tim Ferrell