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Rated: E · Other · Entertainment · #1193067
This was written after war was declared against us, and is meant to be a song.
So pray for us, play for us, save us some, save it for the evening sun, wait for the sun to sink down low then lower our bodies into their holes.

In thier hearts a war rolls on, a glorious end has been their con, in terror and creed they do engage, digging countless silent graves.

So pray for them, play for them, save them some, save it for the evening sun, wait for the sun to sink down low then bury their bodies and fire their souls, their hate and creed can be undone but death is final and its finally come.

On their shore our war rolls on, our truth and honor will not be gone, in justice and creed we do engage, digging them countless silent graves.

So pray for us, play for us save us some, save it for the evening sun, wait for the sun to sink down low, then lower our bodies down in their holes, our justice and creed will be undone but death is final and its finally come.

On the dock we do now stand, for death has played our finale hand, our blood has spilled upon the sand, its the fated ticks of the fated hands.

So pray for us, play for us, save us some, save it for the evening sun, wait for the sun to sink down low, so we can step down in our deep dark holes.

Two coins for the boatman and I board his skiff, and float across the river Styx, on the bank friends stare and wave, waiting for my body to reach the grave.

Welcome brother would you please step down, we have waited for your time to come around, laughter and joy now echoes around as they lower my body into the ground.

On the dock they do now stand as death has burned his final brand, their blood is spilled into the sand, its the fated ticks of the fated hands.

So pray for them play for them save them some, save it for the evening sun, wait for the sun to sink down low, then lower their bodies and free their souls, hate and creed can be undone, but death is final and its finally come.

A bright sun burns upon wet red sand it's the fated ticks of the fated hands.
© Copyright 2006 Brian Benton (bcassyb at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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