04-05-2014, 12:09 PM
Exodus
400 years under the shadows of monoliths,
a nation of warriors marches like ants now
with granite and sandstone packed on our backs.
Where are the so-called gods who fathered these fancy sphinxes adorned in gold and
calling themselves godkings? About immortal as the scorpions
I crush beneath my heal on my daily trek across the desert
if the watchdog with the whip was any relation - I caught him alone
and struck him head to stone;
he'll not whip another again.
Raid the stores and exit toward the river
when the children of the Sun fall beneath my staff; take gold and wares for trade,
and every bronze arrowhead and blade; light a torch that night to
signal you've made camp,
then tiptoe to the shore;
meet me there before the tide
and I'll take you to the Holy Land.
400 years under the shadows of monoliths,
a nation of warriors marches like ants now
with granite and sandstone packed on our backs.
Where are the so-called gods who fathered these fancy sphinxes adorned in gold and
calling themselves godkings? About immortal as the scorpions
I crush beneath my heal on my daily trek across the desert
if the watchdog with the whip was any relation - I caught him alone
and struck him head to stone;
he'll not whip another again.
Raid the stores and exit toward the river
when the children of the Sun fall beneath my staff; take gold and wares for trade,
and every bronze arrowhead and blade; light a torch that night to
signal you've made camp,
then tiptoe to the shore;
meet me there before the tide
and I'll take you to the Holy Land.