A Call To Arms

From hands that beat us senseless come offerings of apparent help

From mouths that told judges lies come pleas of disarmament

As we lay wounded in growing numbers with explosive fury

They fly the white flag at half mast

Calling for the laying down of arms

Calling for a truce they must be..

They must be losing it

to think we'll just pick up our bruised bodies and gather at their feet

No truce, no mercy, no surrender, no rest, no more, this is war!

the midnight hour near's and we prepare for attack

No truce, no mercy, no surrender, no rest, no more, this is war!