A Burden Of Flowers - Rome

Do we reject — do we embrace — do we detest

The deceitful nature of battleless victories?

In this blank age of protest

Of form enfolding strength

Are we guards, henchmen, defenders?

Defeat, defeat, defeat

A time for precision and beauty

A time for seperateness

From blackness to nothingness

From a waste of words to nothing less than?

Defeat, defeat, defeat

The ethos of action

The ethos of pain

Juxtaposed displeasures

The ethos of action

The ethos of pain

This futile life

And its treasures

Nous ne sommes plus capables de sacrifices