Freedom on our tongues and murder on our minds.
And when we pray, we pray
That the butchery will end our subjugation in some way.
The ground breaks and shakes
As our armored beasts
Surge forward towards something
That we can neither fight nor retreat.
The fruit of their fury was known that day
40, 000 men dead, their broken trust waylaid.
The dust of the earth falls on 40,000 shallow graves
That no man under the seven suns shall ever be a slave.
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