From "The Seventh Sea"
The proud forgotten songs the trubadors would sing,
The church bells of the world with martial beat would ring
They said that Spain would rule forever,
So long live the king.
And tiny ants we played parading to our boats
We filled our uniforms and vengeance filled our throats
We swore we'd paint their shore the color of their coats.
Winter in the royal veins,
At five hundred miles released the reins.
And suddenly
The dream unveils,
The cannons dig their nails
Through the sulfur ash that fills our noses and our sails.
The flag we bore
As the ministers of war
Is reunited with the crest of gilded faith
On the ocean floor.
Our ranks divided, our mirage of pride had stood
A dark mosaic made of cloth and splintered wood.
Who wants to
Live to tell for certain if the curtain fell for good
Slipping through the battlefield,
Five hundred miles forever sealed.
Time's up and
The dream unveils
The cannons dig their nails
Through the sulfur ash that fills our noses and our sails.
The flag we bore
As the ministers of war
Is reunited with the crest of gilded faith
On the ocean floor.
Armada
Sees the martyr's apprentices silenced.
Armada
And the sun never rises on the Spanish empire...
(Tom Kirchoffer - drums)
Copyright 1994 Zach London