Their message was sent,
The people,
They had rallied,
And at the front of this force stood The Three,
They traveled far,
They traveled wide.

By now The Frontman was a full adult,
The face of a man you'd trust,
Well spoken and confident,
Ready for anything that could come.

Their faces we're everywhere,
Their voices and sound being sent on all the wires,
Bound for History were The Three,
The only factor was time.

You honestly think you know don't you,
Deep in your heart of hearts,
You wish to know the truth,
When in the end,
And after the fact,
You'll wished the secrets had remained so.

My mouth tastes only of ash and tobacco,
My right thumb sporting a small burn from the lighter,
And my eyes are dry and scratchy,
And all I think about is how you're gone from this world,
Never to greet the sunrise with me again,
To laugh at my stupid jokes,
Or be my only ally when the world itself seems to be out to get me,
A wall to press my back to,
A rope to my drowning man,
The Governor's stay of execution to my riding of Ol' Sparky.

I sit here,
Thinking of you Dear,
Watching the sunrise on the lake.

I feel like I'm climbing a rope that's going up a waterfall,
With a hand tied behind my back,
It's all I can do to simply not drown,
Let alone to not be swatted down from the hammer-like blows of water upon my shoulder, head, and hand.

I feel like my grip is slipping,
I could really use a hand,
I wonder where you're at now in your life,
As I try with all my strength to hold on for mine,
Did you move out west like you wanted?
To learn to surf near Santa Monica?
And learn a new language?

I wished you the best,
And now I wish you'd stayed.

The call went out,
The people,
They answered,
For it was something they all heard in their heart of hearts,
The outcry of "ENOUGH!!!"
Enough of the tyranny that was the monotony of daily life,
Like puppets on strings,
Or the marching on of drones.

The call went out,
Both far and wide,
And the people,
They answered.

In the blink of an eye the lightning flew across the ocean,
Flying far and wide.

The room was lined in foam,
Several microphones littered the booth,
Like corpses abandoned on a field of battle,
Grave markers of bands who came before.

Their hands sweaty,
Emotions tumbling about like clothes in a dryer,
As a small red light came on.

A lone guitar starts out,
Steadily rolling on as more and more instruments join in,
A vanguard to the symphony of rock to follow.

The Frontmans vein's bulging in his neck as he comes into the beginning of the song,
An outcry for those of like mind to join,
A rallying call.

Their sound was influenced by their city,
The Denizens of such a royal city,
Giving it an edge of steel as they tore into the instrumental,
Then suddenly a lull,
Only stopping long enough to catch ones breath, before it plunges back in for another round.
Ebbs and flows,
Until it is back to just the one guitar,
Destined to plod along alone.

Ask a vet, if there were three things they didn't have enough of.
The core of it all would boil down to these:

Never enough time,
Never enough bodies,
Never enough bullets.

The Three had been delivered into the valley of fate,
it was there that they were armed with only their instruments,
seemingly shrunken in comparison to the valley's reaches.

So it was here they marched on,
their Frontman blazing the path,
the bonds between them strengthened,
through their shared success,
reinforced by shared lows,
when the weight was equally heavy upon all their shoulders.

It was there that momentum was gained,
a confident crew that had just hit its stride,
with faces that hadn't entirely lost their boyishness,
their walks and actions, however, told a completely different story,
for these new up-and-comers.

It was time.
They had to create an epic of the histories,
They had to make an album.