Pull up the sleeves of liberty
Cut the veins of your comrades
I can’t stand the sight of these leeches anymore
Tower over me 1000 stories high
Planted to the Earth sucking it dry
Scrapping up to the cracks of doors


Away from devastation
Away from life
Non existence is the only key
Something new
Something where I can feel alive

Securing permanence to the example
Complacent and placid in the face of thunderclouds
Fury of the established order gathers overhead
Veins pulse misery’s despondent glow


Crash landing 1942 dismissed by all but one
From memory he found a mighty bird in the mountains
Searching for his own wings
The wreckage his calling

Piece by piece, the mighty bird is gathered
Rejuvenate this monument of guts and glory
The wreckage his calling

Now soaring high beyond the clouds
Where life is gone a new one found
The chilling touch of atmosphere
Melts the anger dissolves the fear
A gentle burst of ecstasy
Brings back the I revives the me
On this plane dreams are lost and found
My spirit free, at long last unbound

Roar and soar, the mighty bird is back to life
Dive and roll, where gravity is laughable
The wreckage, his calling