My hand is,
So sore from the handle oh' how it digs in.
I can't swing the sword much more I'll admit,
Oh lord' will you bring me peace at the summit?
I beg for a taste of the endin'.
The horrors of battle have brought dwindlin'
'Valentin',
'Strength'.
Drivin' so far from myself I can no longer think.
I'm no longer me.
No longer in sync,
To this world, I'm obsolete.
With both hands I plead,
Bring me peace...
© rossdops