And so it does begin again, a battle for the Everdead.
The field wiped bare, the slate washed clean.
The blood has filtered from the streams.
So let new men arm to the teeth with sharpened sword and polished sheath.
To wage new war for all they know.
More battered kings and broken thrones.
They listen to their general with a fire in his veins.
“The horse you ride to victory, your hands now hold the reigns.
So kick up dust before you rust. This god forsaken rain
Won’t wash away the blood we spill. The crown we claim today!”

A million footprints wash away in the sand.
You’ll never wipe the blood from off your hands.
A blood dance with our sisters and brothers, slaying each other in the name of the mother we blaze on

Elias, the stricken carrying on. You are young, a burning sun.
Elias, each victor holds his cards close to his heart. My burning star.

The spear will pull the bodies of the dead.
The mouths of the children must be fed.
Elias will break down all these walls.

A spark ignites the flames of an army set to take the stage.
A bath of red rides through the field, so take up sword and hardened shield.
The faces walled in front of you, the demons in the night
will scream as they’re dissected and you will shudder with delight.
These pigs are fit for slaughter, their eyes reflect a blinding fear.
So slay wife, father, son and daughter. The reckoning is here.

A million footprints wash away in the sands.
You’ll never wash the blood from off your hands.
This is the mark of the funeral precession
Of billions of people not learning their lesson.

Elias, the stricken carry on. You are young, a burning sun.
Elias, each victor holds his cards close to his heart. My burning star.

Little doth he know, the fates will take their turn.
A reaping of the stars. This boy will be a man of universal scars.
With timing done unkind, shining light unto the blind.

The spear will pull the bodies of the dead.
The mouths of the children must be fed.
A million footprints wash away in the sands
And you’ll never wipe the blood from off your hands.
A reaping of the stars. This boy will be a man of universal scars

This, my Elias.
The spear will pull the bodies of the dead.
The mouths of the children, be fed.
This Elias will bring the final fall.