Текст: With Honor. This Is Our Revenge. Like Trumpets.

Enough pictures drawn in the sand,
Of everything we wish we'd been,
Just to watch them wash out when the waters rise.

Enough careless talk about giving up,
Complaining of the things we haven't got,
Why can't we stand up to the test of time?

No more, No less than all we are, all we have,
No more holding back.
So far, we've only made a scratch, knives out,
No more holding back.
We'll drag our heels on cold concrete
until it's four feet wide and six feet deep,
To forget our regrets and yesterdays.

Enough careless talk about giving up,
Complaining of the things we haven't got,
Why can't we stand up to the test of time?

No more, No less than all we are, all we have,
No more holding back.
So far, we've only made a scratch, knives out,
No more holding back.

I want to cut, cut the binds,
It's not the scissors that are dull.
It's our minds, It's our apathy and shallow goals entwined.
It's all or nothing, kiss yesterday goodbye.

No more, No less than all we are, all we have,
No more holding back.
So far, we've only made a scratch, knives out,
No more holding back.
It's all or nothing, kiss yesterday goodbye.
It's all or nothing, kiss yesterday goodbye.
It's all or nothing, kiss yesterday goodbye.
It's all or nothing, kiss yesterday goodbye.