After the long dark night
The sunrise comes in all its shaded orange glory
We draw our bloody swords for one last time
Beating them into plowshares to plant the seeds of our children
Making offering for the day that the world forgets our crime
The sunrise comes in all its shaded orange glory
We draw our bloody swords for one last time
Beating them into plowshares to plant the seeds of our children
Making offering for the day that the world forgets our crime
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