How mighty are the old, falling in glory and alive forever,
Surpassing crude false smiliy faces, remaining in a shade of grey,
Withstanding egos from the grave and sending wisdom for all ages.
Look in the mirror dull shadows of present leadership,
For your decay will write tomes of black public history,
Your lack of personal integrity will raise true Evil,
And from the dark ages draining vast powers, clinch,
The glasses full of blood and misery… You’ll stand
Facing new Hell where the rotting human trenches,
Will never fall…
Obsession calls your wicked ways to stop your haltering despair,
So high you stand on graves of solitude and mist, you peasants,
For understand how calm will see the future of your evils,
And aggravation of the deeds you planted will arise in silence,
To overshadow feats of greatness from our country builders,
Weep your pledges of insanity, crude and brutal revolution,
The time is here to taunt your never-ending disillusions,
Die vaguely alongside supporters near devil’s minions of old,
Remember the passage of forgiveness and hope now,
For a ray of wanted truths in caves of solace cold.
O, how grace shines away our mighty past in sadness incarnated,
Tears are streaming down our fading faces for you shadows,
Are sinking without remorse our birth heritage from old,
Go forth now hallows treble at our sight the young and strong ones,
For we are one with Christian treasures simply contemplating,
Yesterday of many victories and pride joyful occasions,
Now we are gone lost in darkness, away drank in translation.
Go on into the vast chambers of life great expectations,
Dirt is what you carry rock of sorrow and fallen embraces,
Drunk with excitement, sensing corruption is calling.
I look at my forefathers, a song sends thrills of enlighten,
For once I was childish but now I see clearly, amazing,..
Surprising still... great names I fear you won’t be remembered,
For they’ll make it a vengeance, flame out your corpses.
A dream of great intrigues blessing true new grievances,
Alas we are human, posing as saints when numbers are even,
Money ricks down our heaven, destroying life and tender,
I but lonely, wishing a new end to share with God.