the day begins with news of yet more death
the warriors have made these days their time
the air is heavy poisoning the breath
the noblest buildings have a coat of grime
the voice of freedom now seems forced and hoarse
the garments of blind justice are threadbare
we're urge without good reason stay the course
respond to terror with nothing but fear
what does it matter that we all once knew
that fear was not enough to build a state
what does it matter that it is not true
that our fresh triumph is decreed by fate
the morning's dark around us the fog lies
we cannot hope again to see the skies
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