In Cruel Fire - Rome

What cruel fire, what land forlorn

Will raise its plaint in time?

What black spring blooms

In your eyes?

Whose blood will taint

This land of mine?

And he who makes bread

Ought to eat

And he who fights ought to rest

And though it is truth we seek

It just won’t do to serve

With the best

Now make your pact with time

And the worlds you are stealing

For you will only find me

In what I’m leaving

And we’ll all be drowned

Just wait and see

In the hollow sound

Of marching feet

And the blood bleeds black

The blood runs red

You made all that is yours

But they are here to offend

Your housings

Your silent tents

And to teach all eyes to close

But you sold your spades

On the mournful autumn train

A lifetime ago

And you give the fruit

Of your flight

For a loaf of light

For you don’t know

How to make your pact with time

And the worlds you are stealing

For you will only find me

In what I’m leaving

And we’ll all be drowned

Just wait and see

In the hollow sound

Of marching feet

Make your pact with time

And the worlds you are stealing

For you will only find me

In what I’m leaving

And we’ll all be drowned

Just wait and see

In the hollow sound

Of marching feet

And we’ll all be drowned

Just wait and see

In the hollow sound

Of marching feet