The Flowers So Sweet
In the Meadows We Weep
To the Tower
Throughout the Hour
The Souls now Dead
The lost lives a silvery Thread
On the heros Call
We Watch Them All Fall
Such Innosense Wasted
So much Unnecessary Blood Tasted
A Wasteland of Horror
To such A Dreadfull Gore
Through Bullets We Seek
Through Every Strike A Treat
Ivory Floors Now Red
All Of Them Are Now Dead
