Traitors Gate

Borders swell like the oceans
 Nations swept away
 In the steel rain
 Wounds carved in the earth
 The silent hands of genocide
 They map the years
 Map the years
 Legacies of dust
 People remembered in nothing
 But fragments of language
 And verses of song
 And shards of military rust
 The gallows cold hands
 They tighten old rope, old rope
 Young men hang in the fetid breeze
 Like rotten fruit
 Too ripe for harvest
 And they have marched us
 Through the streets
 Heralded our death - our death
 Proclaimed our end
 And brought us to our knees - our knees
 A host of the willing few
 Gathered at the Traitors Gates
 Demanding their pound of flesh
 And their weight in gold
 The tyrant
 Resurrected as King
 Who's Midas touch
 An Iron Fist
 All the world is proclaiming
 Yesterday's man as Traitor
 Yet welcome with open arms
 His brother
 As tomorrow's Dictator