a fading photo on a wooden shelf sneering in your face unlike the memory of the little boy from what you call "the good old days" the bitter taste of fall the smell of wet concrete walls and still you count the cries at night you try to analyse the solar serpent shines reforms the shadows of the past and evermore the torment lasts the solar serpent shines you traced the contours of a union where only greed survives convicted by the mass you kept your course with head held high the victims at your feet the mission must proceed there is a higher cause you said afraid to understand the solar serpent shines reforms the shadows of the past eternally the cross will burn the solar serpent shines alone again but yet not quite so sure watch it coming
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