In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3

Broad incision sits across the evening

The victim to our fathers' lost war

The restless children sit and mourn the graves

Of those they've never seen before

Will they be buried here among the dead

In the silent secret?

The pioneers, in dealing with it, they march for dawn

Of Will and worthy

The truth be told, the child was born

Man your own jackhammer

Man your battle stations

We'll have you dead pretty soon, and now

Sincerely written from my brother's blood machine to yours

Man your battle stations

We'll have you home pretty soon, and now

Awake through motion, with curious to curtain your first move

Over arms length, they'll break protocol

Jealous envy for the youngest one

To be the hero is all I'll ask

Can I be buried here among the dead

With room to honor me here in the end?

You'll be better off too soon

You'll be better off when you get home

The pioneers, in dealing with it, they'll march for dawn

For Will and worthy

The truth be told, the child was born

Man your own jackhammer

Man your battle stations

We'll have you dead pretty soon, and now

Sincerely written from my brother's blood machine to yours

Man your battle stations

We'll have you home pretty soon, and now

For you, I'd do anything just to make you happy

Hear you tell me that you're proud of me

For them, I'll kill anything

Cut the throats of babies for them

Break their hearts for they were them

Waiting for you to say, "I love you, too"

The navigator, the pilot, her favorite

The one they call the Vision that bears the gift

The navigator, the pilot, her favorite

The one they call the Vision that bears the gift

Will, do the children really understand

The things you did to them?

And why, oh why

Should they conjure up the will?

For you, my love, I would kill him

We're coming home pretty soon

We're going home

In the seventh turning hour, will the victims' shadow fall?

Should the irony grow hungry

With the victory and all they sought for

We were one among the fence, one among the fence

(Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa)

(Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa)

Coming

Whoa

Coming

Whoa

Now, now

Whoa

Now we're coming home

Whoa

Man your own jackhammer

Man your battle stations

We'll have you dead pretty soon, and now

Sincerely written from my brother's blood machine to yours

Man your battle stations

We'll have you home pretty soon, till then