Get up off the ground and save yourself. We are prisoners to regret when we replay mistakes over and over again. We are so tied to the absolute, but what does it mean? How far can we tow this burden? Its the call to the warrior as we dissolve into resolve. In the sand the lines been drawn. But we keep marching on. And through the darkness we will fight until we find a way. For they cannot preach both free will and fate. My lungs have set fires. Fickle men will not decide my destiny. Here I stand, I will hold my ground. Its on this road, we have learned the face and shame of betrayal and all of its names, and all of its names. In the sand the lines been drawn. But we keep marching on. And through the darkness we will fight until we find a way. For they cannot preach both free will and fate. How the deaf are blessed. My lungs have set fires. Its the call to the warrior. Here I stand, I will hold my ground. Here I stand. So get up off the ground.
ground, preach, marching, drawn, lung