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Open Graves

by Letter To The Exiles

on Make Amends (2012)

Now we are slaves to our own history
New architects of divine treachery
When it's over what becomes of you and I?
The bastard sons of a gentile line
There are open graves, desecration our human hands have made
I am throwing myself to the abyss, and the ashes prove the flame
This is what I know of faith
I offer this, some compensation for consequence
I test my method, some expression of my repentance
Now to the architect, construct of imagination
I leave his body as my free-will's evidence of a failed design
I am throwing myself to the jackals
What becomes of you and I?
The bastard sons of a gentile line
We're not the hollow vessels
We're not forgotten slaves
We're not an abstract concept
We are not open graves
Now watch it burn to the ground
Watch as I will tear it down
I will break this earth, I will watch it burn
This is offered to you:
Can you hear the sound of truth, it's calling out to you
I have one truth, given to me and offered to you
What is dead will rise again