Broad incision sits across the evening
A victim to our fathers lost war
The restless children sit and mourn the graves
Of those they've never seen before
Will they be buried here among the dead,
In the silent secret?
The pioneers, in dealing with it they march for dawn
Of will and worthy
The truth be told the child was born
Man your own jackhammer
Man your battle stations
We'll have you dead pretty soon
Sincerely written from my brothers blood machine
Man your battle stations
We'll have you home pretty soon
A lurking motion with curious to curtain your first move
Oh through arms length they'll break protocol
Childish envy for the youngest one
To be the hero is all I'll ask
Can I be buried here among the dead?
With room to honor me here in the end
You'll be better off too soon
You'll be better off when you get home
The pioneers, in dealing with it they'll march for dawn
For will and worthy
The truth be told the child was born
Man your own jackhammer
Man your battle stations
We'll have you dead pretty soon
Sincerely written from my brothers blood machine
Man your battle stations
We'll have you home pretty soon
For you I'd do anything
Just to make you happy hear you tell me that your proud of me
For them I'd kill anything, cut the throats of babies
For them break they're hearts for they were them
Waiting for you to say... I love you too
The navigator, the pilot, her favorite
The one they call the vision that bears the gift
The navigator, the pilot, her favorite
The one they call the vision that bears the gift
Will, do the children really understand the things you did to them?
And why, oh why should they conjure up the will,
For you my love I would kill... him
We're coming home pretty soon
Coming home...
In the seventh turning hour,
Will the victims shadow fall?
Should the irony
