We wait for the siren The crimson horizon The right of our passage Into promised land The conflict approaching Adversaries waiting Just beyond the threshold of our gates
By Your hand We make our stand They’ll heed our command And flee this land
My bloodline is reaching From beyond and through me Calling all the righteous To our vital quest Our history it hinges On victory within us Father, make these fists Like Brass
The killers of mercy They occupy and justify Invading, dividing But we will look them in the eyes Converge, descend Upon the fields of Easter rising Now go before me By your strength we rectify this…