Those years of abalone, those years of wheat
Now are nothing but empty years to me
We know this ship brings war, we know this is not Geneva
Seems like the November pyre and the cease of fire were not enough to teach her

Hammer and song, the cool banks of the Aeeth
I've had this scream inside me for a thousand years
And now is the time to collect the guns we sent ahead
For we know every revolution dies at child birth at the latest

...And this one's dead

And we'll drain our skin with the taste and smells of the ocean
Just like Paris is drenched in the blood of her bravest children
And we hold on to whatever fragments are left
For our daughter's sake we let our dream find the world

We'll let our hearts glow it awake
We'll let our hearts glow it awake