Here, the lines are drawn
soldiers sing the battle song
'tis not the time for turning back
upon the field, creeds shall impact.
Down the line, the orders run
blazing blades in handfuls of sun
armour shimmers between the clouds
blood weighs heavy on these boughs.
Prepared, are we and thou not be
able to respond aptly to our victory
war brought by providence
'tis mine will o'er thine dominance.
For freedom the titans fight
clad in red, blue, and white
muskets and swords for what we want
for fire gives what the pen cannot!
Steady on steeds, we fight the decree
of those who built this colony
stand ready men; do not falter
for this land is of thine father.
Clutch the hilt and be not weak
the blade, blood, it shall seek
we will collide with destiny
out of death comes our victory.
Decimate and then some more
make them feel a ruddy sore;
little mercy at the trigger
for we shall bring the fire on thicker.
And in the night we shall war too
our aim and sight be true
until our goal is reached;
our governors impeached!
~Seventeen-seventy-when?
Love,
Digress.
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