our only options

we won't take ship on stranger seas to sail
instead we stay behind and watch the sky
looking for messages from those that fly
with seemly haste ahead of the great gale
when all our stratagems have come to fail
we have no other weapons standing by
to claim that truth is just another lie
and nothing matters but the final tale
when nights turn cold and faces all are flat
there won't be foes with whom we'll have to meet
nor any progress by the royal barge
we'll hear no signals from a bird or bat
no strangers smile when passing on the street
but many wait to answer the last charge