Coheed and Cambria | Lyrics | In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3

A broad incision sits across the evening
The victim to our fathers lost war
The restless children sit and mourn the graves
Of those they've never seen before
Will they be buried here among the dead
In the silent secret?

The pioneers
In dealing with it they march for dawn
For will and worthy
The truth be told the child was born

Man, your own jackhammer, man your battle stations
We'll have you dead pretty soon and now
It's sincerely written from my brother's blood machine to yours
Man your battle stations, we'll have you home pretty soon
And now

Awake through motion with curious to curtain your first move
Over the arms length they'll break protocol
Childish, envy for the youngest one to be the hero is all I'll ask
Can I be buried here among the dead
With room to honor me here in the end?
You'll be better off too soon, you'll be better off when you get home

The pioneers
In dealing with it they march for dawn
For will and worthy
The truth be told the child was born

Man, your own jackhammer, man, your battle stations
We'll have you dead pretty soon and now
Sincerely written from my brother's blood machine to yours
Man your battle stations
We'll have you home pretty soon and now

For you I'd do anything, just to make you happy
Hear you tell me that you're proud of me
For them I'll kill anything, cut the throats of babies
For them break they're hearts for they were
Them waiting for you to say 'I love you too'

The navigator, the pilot, her favorite
The one they call the vision that bears the gift
The navigator, the pilot, her favorite
The one they call the vision that bears the gift

Will, do the children really understand
The things you did to them
And why, oh, why should they conjure up the will
For you my love I would kill him
We're coming home pretty soon
Coming home

In the seventh turning hour
Will the victims shadow fall?
Should the irony grow hungry
With the victory and all they sought for?
We were one among the fence
One among the fence

Now we're coming home

Man, your own jackhammer, man, your battle stations
We'll have you dead pretty soon and now
It's sincerely written from my brother's blood machine to yours
Man, your battle stations, we'll have you home pretty soon
Till then