I see a figure standing here
Hidden within the shadowed hall
Head bowed in grief, consumed by fear
Foretelling how the world will fall.
Beside them one who laughs at death
Sets fire to their solemn soul
The spark is lit and fanned by breath
Of hurricanes and rock ‘n’ roll
‘Cross oceans red with rebels’ blood
With sights set on a golden shore
They brave the waters of the flood
To answer: ‘Is there something more?’
And if they find it buried there
Deep down beneath that golden land
Will truth be theirs, laid stark and bare
Or is there only sand?