I can see
I can the shift
Looks like year twelve really was a conscious lift
I can see
I can see the split
a schism in faith and flesh
I believe it, I believe it
cockalorum woos a peaceful dove
mother and child cease to love
a rooster calls and guards the nest
how many stars shall rise in the west?
like a white stone
a bouquet of stars is thrown
one hundred and eighty degrees away in the other direction
men took pens and wrote it all down
the motherland deemed them an evil terror
barbaric and parted from the worldly crown
providing us with great hope for our heirs
forefathers, did you really believe in us?
every man begotten from the waters
stood coequal to slow erode in rust
passing down to sons and daughters
our sovereign albatross
did you really,
did you really go in for the win?
what was it that was in your heart?
so acquainted with ruling blood kin
you scattered the pieces like a work of art
I can see
I can see the shift
I can see
I can see the split
this is no leak
nor a timid flow
this is a flood
I turn on the HAM radio
hearing the faces play on ignorance