| Lyrics |
a fading photo on a wooden shelfsneering in your faceunlike the memory of the little boyfrom what you call "the good old days"the bitter taste of fall the smell of wet concrete wallsand still you count the cries at night you try to analysethe solar serpent shinesreforms the shadows of the pastand evermore the torment laststhe solar serpent shinesyou traced the contours of a unionwhere only greed survivesconvicted by the massyou kept your coursewith head held high the victims at your feetthe mission must proceedthere is a higher causeyou said afraid to understandthe solar serpent shinesreforms the shadows of the pasteternally the cross will burnthe solar serpent shinesalone againbut yet not quite so surewatch it coming
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