Skywards, the prayers we sent, of no avail

No fear of death will walk among us

Almost too limb to throw the stones

Marching into darkness, bowed down with grief and marked by enslavement


All the prayers we sent, of no avail

They went unheard

Of no avail, the lives we gave


Our weakened legs and tattered shoes will cause no sound on icy streets

Almost too weak to cry out the spell

His servants won't slow down our steps

Blood red will be those streets and burning castles we'll leave


Cursed be the God who was deaf to our prayers


As we died in freedom their machines broke down for a day