Pound and pound for each spark...
For each star to fight the dark,
Blowing ember back to fire, desire to tired.
We found a place in the choir to find our peace.
While the war rages we manage to find the holy dove,
While we ease their shoves,
Handle their garbage is as easy as yolk with a glove.
So in the choir we chant and rave to tame the rants.
And well end their and our fighting by laying down and surrendering,
Cause when they do so do we but we'll do it with all our might,
Kill the hate with a cry after the strife.
And lets sing with a single chord like a knife.