What earth be left for men like us to roam?
What lessons learned would lesser burn than walks in rocky hell?
When thoughts of pearly gates may sing of home
We may be on our way, but oh the stories left to tell
All the ships we've left to wreck and hearts to break
Horizons yet to sail toward with clouds hung in our eyes
Our enemies we still have left to make
And if we fall on cannons, like the sun we will arise
We may count the stars to number all our follies
With canyons could we measure depth of rue
But, on the mountains high, we stand to volley
And, on this day, we bare our colors true
Oh, brother we may tread uneasy soil
My friend, we'll never make it out alive
And though the world may see us crude as oil
We combust and make like rockets to the skies
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