Slaves, She Made Us
Rift Giant
GENRE
Toiling hard beneath an alien sky
Sun on our backs and our throats are dry
Linked by fetters dragging at our feet
Clanking irons blister in the heat
The natives watch us with unblinking stares
And guard the guns we brought with fearful care
They drive us hard; we labour on and on
Cracking rock and stone until the day is done
The drudgery takes its toll
Slaving on until we fall
Breathe, we bide our time, await our chance
Seethe, we loathe our wretched circumstance
Weeks draw on and still we sweat in chains benеath their sun
Whipped at whim and sickly thin we fight to not succumb
Dеspair remains a close-by friend, to accept what we've become
Shadows of our former selves, all hope is nearly gone
Like the calm before a storm
We muster fortitude once more
We, we will not just fade away
Free, we will rise another day
Forty-six of us remain, resolute yet strained
Facing down our future ruin, we plot for our escape
In the dead of night, we'll rush the guards and take up arms again
The cacophony of our roaring guns will cleave this world in twain
Sun on our backs and our throats are dry
Linked by fetters dragging at our feet
Clanking irons blister in the heat
The natives watch us with unblinking stares
And guard the guns we brought with fearful care
They drive us hard; we labour on and on
Cracking rock and stone until the day is done
The drudgery takes its toll
Slaving on until we fall
Breathe, we bide our time, await our chance
Seethe, we loathe our wretched circumstance
Weeks draw on and still we sweat in chains benеath their sun
Whipped at whim and sickly thin we fight to not succumb
Dеspair remains a close-by friend, to accept what we've become
Shadows of our former selves, all hope is nearly gone
Like the calm before a storm
We muster fortitude once more
We, we will not just fade away
Free, we will rise another day
Forty-six of us remain, resolute yet strained
Facing down our future ruin, we plot for our escape
In the dead of night, we'll rush the guards and take up arms again
The cacophony of our roaring guns will cleave this world in twain
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