Soldier And Saints

Young Man,

Please take the stands,

Don't still your tongue,

For those you talk to try to sell you out.

Young Man,

Please understand,

On heads of martyrs rests a message.

You're the plank of wood in the plaintiff's eye,

Another kerosene depiction of the price

Paid to burn a fool and raise empires, boy,

On heads of martyrs rests a message.

So please, address the crowd,

It seems that no one now is leaving here until

Every stone has had its say.

(As coats drop,

Accusers stalk,

and every stone meets its mark.)

Yet don't recant, we can,t recant;

Through death we gain an audience

Of open ears and open eyes,

For nothing speaks as loud, lay down your life.

You will yet be made

A soldier's souls of saints,

Rise up and be the same,

For to lose your life is gain.

So please address the crowded streets

From every stage that turns into an urn

For every heretic that's burned.

Rise up and lay down your life.

Young Man,

Please take the stands,

Don't still your tongue,

For those you talk to try to sell you out.

With eyes set like cameras,

and knives held behind their backs

They're watching,

They're watching you