On March The Saints

Be something that amounts to nothing, the threat A wrecking-ball plowing through our karma We have no confident voice in our ears for tonight Exist in memory only headline We have been through change By the season of the storms It's irony The cleansing Accept eccentric faith To need religion To sit high among the elect On march the saints There's no such thing as a good time for bad luck As minutes turn to distressed fragmented moments Reading lips, unable to hear the talk Partake no tangible out in tomorrow We have seen the change From the season of the storms It's irony The cleansing With all our lives at stake From at rest to the present Are sitting high among the elect On march the saints March We have been through change By the season of the storms It's irony The cleansing Accept eccentric faith To need religion To sit high among the elect On march the saints On march the saints On march the saints