Fires of Lost Valor

The cradle is empty,

the hearth is cold With stories of glory that can't be sold

They took away fathers,

they took away sons

To feed the fire of the iron guns.

A ragged line marching through mud and rain

With hungry bellies and a lifetime of pain

The orchestrators hide

in their marble halls

While innocent children

bleed on the walls.

Weep, oh heavens,

for the blood they spill!

For the wicked crowns and the lords who kill!

They trade our lives

for a throne of lies

While mothers scream under burning skies!

O-o-oh, hear the orphan's cry...

O-o-oh, under a blackened sky!

A little white shoe in the ashes lies

Beneath the weight

of a million sighs

Who started the fire?

Who lit the flame?

While history hides behind power and fame.

Are our lives

worth your pride...?

THEY BLEED US DRY FOR YOUR GREED AND WARS!

WE CURSE THE KINGS AND THEIR CRUEL APPLAWS!

Weep, oh heavens,

for the blood they spill!

For the wicked crowns and the lords who kill!

They trade our lives

for a throne of lies While mothers scream under burning skies!

No

more war...

just the empty cold.