From the tears of a great puppet master,
We watch him pull the strings,
Causing Hell, havoc, and unspeakable things.

Our tears rain from the sky,
We are governed by falling great empire,
The price to own the world, perishes in fire.

A world of boundless disease,
Weakened children crumbling to their knees,
Dieing by gas chambers and military machines.

Our lives are dictated by war,
Our memories are granted by bittersweet lore.
We can’t stop ourselves,
We’ll open our eyes,
Ripping fire shall destroy the skies.
And tears shall wash the earth,
Of all impurities and disguise.

Left are many, and rising are few.
Rising from the ashes,
Form the fires we purge,
And we live again,
To only be reminded of a hellish dread.