Lyrics

Two hundred fifty years of words we built on theft and fire, We shot the sky and burned the land, then called ourselves the light. We chained the bodies, stole the ground, and dressed it up as right, But empty shells make no real sound, no matter how we try. I see the blood beneath the brass, the bones beneath the stone, And pride tastes like a poison now, a thing I can't condone. But there is always one more road, one step ahead of here, And I will walk it as it comes, though everything is clear. We were the instrument of harm, but we are not the end, There's always one more way forward, and I'll walk it, friend.