Show our eyes true color. We want to hear the trumpet roar...
We want to hear the trumpet roar... with words that trample the pagan’s cavalry.
Pummel the darkness with the light.
Hand in hand, side by side, we will march with full force.
With your words from our throats we will march with full force.
Words that will shake the earth and boil the seas,
trample the bones of the living dead as they roam the streets alone.
We go marching on. Let the trumpets roar. (Go...)
I’m the harbinger, not the author of these timeless words.
Led by the Comforter I sing to you.
And if my throat were to be cut from ear to ear, I hope that these words
would carry on in these songs that I pray you sing one day.
We sing for you. We sing for you. We sing for you. We sing for you.
We sing for you. We sing for you. We sing for you. We sing for you.
Aš tai dabar jaučiuosi, lyg man būtų uždėtas limitas, kiek galiu naudotis music'u. Nes atrodo, prisiliesiu prie kažko ne to ir išmes mane kokiai savaitei, kaip jau yra padarę. Bet iš dalies gerai tokia pertrauka - daugiau laiko kitiems dalykams