But for the feathers of vultures beating the ground
But my pride was just another agent of decay

Drifting beneath the northern lights

I tried to wield a greater blade
Dancing in our graves
But all you lions can keep your bloody pride
And what was the nature of our glorious anger?
And I remember our school but little of our crimes
And let the laughter fly like you were burning your bread
While time is drifting like the ice in the hearts of the bergs
We are only slaves to our ghostly arms and legs
And dark is the dusk in the city's bloodshot eyes
When we were young we said we'd never play the game
Lonely is the town
I worked in the fields in a dignified way
You were my song when you ripped your pretty head
We are only slaves to our distant youths and coming graves
There was hardly a sound
We are only slaves to our master's memories
Let them say I was a hard working stiff and sand of the golden age
With our handles of wine and blood stained blazers
And laying in the ruins of this golden age
Oh my dear brothers what were your names?
Creeping behind us to another stranger

Hold the dogs at bay, your laughter was the love that ran today
The sound we fear is only our day
Well time now has surely passed us by
Staggering through the days to yield the seed of the golden age