What matters is not what you've remembered
Forgotten infants swaddled in your linen shrouds
Death and blood is all
That we've ever dreamed about

Lost children
Your cradles have fallen
Wake up
The world is waiting
Innocents
To trade blood for birthright
This is what you've been born to achieve

Running through the streets of gunshots and fire
Home is a memory trampled by time
Never comprehending the longing
For the ocean and a lullaby

Lost children
Heroes walking through the blaze
Stand up
The world is calling
Sinners
To herald salvation
This is what you've been brought up to be.