This is my church
It stands so tall and proud
It has done for all time
It has no walls
Yet its vast halls
Reach from shore to shore
To whatever shore
You know as your own
We stand as one, we stand alone
We are born
From the same womb
Hewn from the same stone
From the frozen Baltic
I watched sunrise over Athena
Walked the battlefields of Flanders
And saw duskfall at Cintra
Beneath the spires of Sofia
Fields of crosses at Arnhem
Armenius stood tall in Teuteborg
Senatus Populusque Romanus
To the fjords of Hordaland
Shadows of ancient Albion
At the shore of a 1000th lake
Saint Vitus dance in Praha
Yet when to Ireland we Return
I know that I am home at last
And every sun that sets
Takes me closer to her Earth
6. The Rising Tide
[Instrumental]
7. Traitors Gate
Borders swell like the oceans
Nations swept away
In the steel rain
Wounds carved in the earth
The silent hands of genocide
Map the years
Forgotten legacies of dust
People remembered in nothing
But fragments of language
Verses of song
And shards of military rust
The gallows cold hands
Tighten old rope
Young men hang in the fetid breeze
Like rotten fruit
Too ripe for harvest
They have marched us
Through the streets
Heralded our death
Proclaimed our end
And brought us to our knees
A host of the willing few
Is gathered at the Traitors Gates
Demanding their pound of flesh
And their weight in gold
The tyrant
Resurrected as King
Who's Midas touch an Iron Fist
All the world proclaiming
Yesterday's man as Traitor
Yet welcome with open arms
His brother as tomorrows Dictator
