The stitch in our eyenWith roots deep withinnThe soil stained with bloodnOf those who rose before the timenDirt relies on our testnTied to the resolving designnDistance varies though the ways bring us allnFeeders seething woe is themnThe volted antenna saints that will the firenThe hand is gnawednThe end is nighnThe warriors remain and they bring us to the skynWe'll burn in the sunnAnd we'll fall to the moon