Oh what hopeful prayer i send to thee, In this my hour of misery. A belligerent death has done so wrong, A wind has blown with brothers gone. A face not mine in reflection i see, and mirrors now they frighten me. A voice of better times sowing mines, and my eyes kept missing the growing signs. The sight of razors such a heavy weight this stretch of rope and a growing fate It takes fifteen feet or five minutes of blood the thoughts come on like a raging flood so I raise my sword to fight this more, though one day life will lose this war.