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Hanging The Giants

de Advent

Where are they now?
These giants of my dreams, the ones that seek to kill me.
They run and hide. They see the fire behind my eyes
And they feel the anger that boils beneath my skin.
Come out. Come out. Come out, and say something real.
Come out. 'Cause I feel the apathy in this air tonight.
Do you hear the wind?
The trees whispering their deepest fears to me?
They can feel the fire burning at their limbs. Burning at their limbs.
Burning at their limbs. The voice of anger, it screams in the wind.
The voice of anger blows in the wind.
Do you hear the sound of the nothing,
Of everything tossed by the wind?
The sound of the war drums beating on
In the war for the hearts of every man, of every tongue?
I see them coming down on the clouds of black.
The clouds of war. I see it creeping in. I feel it creeping in.
I feel the apathy creeping in. Where is your fire?
Where is your anger? Where is your blood?
Where is your fire? Where is your anger?

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