Oh
All my branches bend
Where
Are the hungry hands?
This is a call
I'm outside your door
Give me the bride
I have paid my dues,
I can wait no more
What do I do with my gifts,
When they become to heavy to lift?
This is a call
We're outside your door
Give us the prize,
We can wait no more
And the atlas in us
Yeah, has worked so hard to say that
""we do what we do, and believe it is true""
This a war