Get up off the ground and save yourself. We are prisoners to regret when we
replay mistakes over and over again. We are so tied to the absolute, but what
does it mean? How far can we tow this burden? It's the call to the warrior as
we dissolve into resolve. In the sand the line's been drawn. But we keep
marching on. And through the darkness we will fight until we find a way. For
they cannot preach both free will and fate. My lungs have set fires. Fickle men
will not decide my destiny. Here I stand, I will hold my ground. It's on this
road, we have learned the face and shame of betrayal and all of it's names, and
all of it's names. In the sand the line's been drawn. But we keep marching on.
And through the darkness we will fight until we find a way. For they cannot
preach both free will and fate. How the deaf are blessed. My lungs have set
fires. It's the call to the warrior. Here I stand, I will hold my ground. Here
I stand. So get up off the ground.
