A Stórín -

Our love’s a touch of life

In a world that wreaks of death

A fuck you to the blacknes

Of pestilence and graves

To the bodies that litter roadsides

From the city to the sea

All the specters of a people

Made starve for others greed

To glid the empire’s lily

While a dying nation bleed

A stor, a storín, a stor

On your lips a breath to save us all

From the pointlessness and horror of it all

And they’re tearing down the walls

And they’re setting the roof to flames

And I’m but a man of skin and bone

Clothed in my shame

Nothing to feed us

But hope in each others' eyes

As we board a coffin ship

To try and save our very lives

A stor, a stor, a storín, a stor

There may not be a tomorrow

So I give you my all now

And if we live to see another day

I’ll spend each breath I have with you

A stor, a stor

Till our sying days, a stor

Till the warming clay, a stor

To the clay, a stor