a fading photo on a wooden shelf

sneering in your face

unlike the memory of the little boy

from what you call "the good old days"

the bitter taste of fall the smell of wet concrete walls

and still you count the cries at night you try to analyse

the solar serpent shines

reforms the shadows of the past

and evermore the torment lasts

the solar serpent shines

you traced the contours of a union

where only greed survives

convicted by the mass

you kept your course

with head held high the victims at your feet

the mission must proceed

there is a higher cause

you said afraid to understand

the solar serpent shines

reforms the shadows of the past

eternally the cross will burn

the solar serpent shines

alone again

but yet not quite so sure

watch it coming