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Young man wake up,
Young man heed my warning.
The filth you abide inside is unfit for the royalty coursing through your veins.
Pick up your bones and bring them back home, where your throne is awaiting your return.
We only fear what we can see, deceived by our own eyes.
Victory is ours for the taking, why do we sleep within defeat?
You are the king that was born to lead us, but you settled for the love of thieves.
You are the oak that was destined for greatness, but you burned it all for the strength of weeds.
Piece yourself back together, what remains of your kingdom.
Remove these rusted chains, wear your crown.
War chokes the horizon's throat.
With a noose around our own, cut the ropes of regret,
Or forever be overthrown.
War consumes our home.
Take back your throne.
Arise from the grave, you sleep in a coffin, the sun will climb and bring you new life.
Chaos greets peace with a knife in the back, and Judas brings a kiss to betray.
Your brethren search for a lost king, who left them meal to lions fangs.
Chaos greets peace with a knife in the back, and Judas brings a kiss to betray.
Your life fades in the palm of your hand, grasping for the love of phantoms.
You only fear what you can see, don’t believe the testimony of your eyes.
The heart is always seeking for something more, for more than the same.
And the soul wanders from body to body, trying to find a home.
You starve for the truth, because you feed on nothing but lies, don't believe your eyes.
Return to us and rule your kingdom, for we are lost, lead us home.
Prepare for war the enemy approaches.
There is no mercy in their hearts for cowards.
Victory is ours for the taking, so why do we sleep within defeat?
There is no comfort within sleep.
Young man, wake up!
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