Skywards, the prayers we sent, of no avail No fear of death will walk among us Almost too limb to throw the stones Marching into darkness, bowed down with grief and marked by enslavement All the prayers we sent, of no avail They went unheard Of no avail, the lives we gave Our weakened legs and tattered shoes will cause no sound on icy streets Almost too weak to cry out the spell His servants won't slow down our steps Blood red will be those streets and burning castles we'll leave Cursed be the God who was deaf to our prayers As we died in freedom their machines broke down for a day
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