Текст: 7 Generations. Other. Rising Of The Sun.

Another culture is crushed by our uncaring hands / Another acre falls beneath the treads of this / Brutal, heartless empire as we pillage the world / Searching for a dream within the nightmare we made / But I dream of standing on the top of / The wreckage of these dividing walls / And I dream of the day these chains break / From around our bloody mangled wrists /
As our arrogant pride blinds our foolish eyes / And as our luxury corrupts our selfish souls
Another's life is stolent by the horrific plague / Our mislead longings have fed over all the years / But I long to see the end of this / Oppressive, cut-throat hegemony / And I long for the day when all eyes / Can finally open to see the sun of freedom rise / To cast out this darkness that stretches without end (and with the veil of night lifted at last
from our eyes the truth will shine as bright as day) / we are slaves bound to the oars that row us into damnation / lamenting our lives of bondage while holding / the key to freedom in our hands / we are the tortured servants of a murderous master / starving as we steal to feed the belly of the beast / so here I'm standing one the outskirts of sanity / frantically screaming for the rising of the sun