Who We Are
This is where the widow's cried.
This is where the martyrs died.
This is where our dreams go up in flames.
Here we drink the bitter wine.
Here we cross the thin red line.
Here is where we learn to play the game.
We bury our dead in shallow graves,
and to this pain we all are slaves.
We're selling our souls to live a dream,
but no-one can tell us what it means.
We're burning the bridge before we cross.
Abandoned the innocence we lost.
We sold our youth to get this far,
but no-one can tell us who we are.
This is where the war begins.
And here we face the bitter end.
This is where we sacrificed our young.
Here we pray to hollow gods.
Here we hope against the odds.
Here is where it all will come undone.
We bury our dead in shallow graves,
and to this pain we all are slaves.
We're selling our souls to live a dream,
but no-one can tell us what it means.
We're burning the bridge before we cross.
Abandoned the innocence we lost.
We sold our youth to get this far,
but no-one can tell us who we are.
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