Lakes of frozen tears
a sleeping landscape with flakes of fear.
From silent lips screamed blames of a calamity that gains.
The widows observing their fallen heroes,
tasting the tastes of fate,
now knowing that no warrior can defeat that tide,
now knowing that it's too late...
What can we do? What can we do now?
Closing no doors that we've kicked off.
The ape with the bomb is the way we have chosen.
What can we do? What can we do now?
Fire in the woods, a burning paradise with an end that grows.
Hopped up children losing more and more their roots.
A mind sucking engine of out grey tasting life,
but the grey gets an extension 'til it fills our hive.
Here is the grass not green but black.
The air whispers today, "the ash comes back."
What can we do? What can we do now?