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Orange Chrome
 Where do you stand when the war is over?
 Just smoke a cigar and forget about yesterday forever.
 As a black smith, we bend the iron under the hot coals.
 In the fire it’s a recipe for a storm below.
 You can’t escape from the past.
 Time ripples through the smoke, nothing will last.
 Bleeding through liquid metal.
 Purple lightning strikes across the sky into tomorrow.
 Beyond the horizon, we must survive.
 Once before we fought the terminators on land and in the sky.
 The past has faded into a black memory.
 One last fight in the darkness while the wheels keep turning.
 In the fire pit, machinery rises in chrome.
 It’s a vendetta to survive past the cold.
 Bones lay low while we stand on our graves.
 Laid to rest as warriors are the brave.
 Before the dawn, we pick up iron to curl and to stay strong.
 Face to face with the red eye, they are long gone.
 In the end the war is never over.
 One day the machines will return, so stay sober.
 The gym is my home, so keep pushing into exhaustion.
 Rust on our hands turns orange past the horizon.
 With fury there is no rest day.
 Stay hungry for the calling, don’t be afraid.
 When the iron bricks hit the bottom,
 We stand as one through the fire.

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