Bomb after blast, all turns to ash.  

While the winds blow, the bloody hands are thorough.

Blowing the smell of death, thoroughly those hands do carry out the test.  

The test of life is all but over.  

Failed we have, we still must laugh.  

While the winds gently blow, our breath is gone.

Our life is now over; descending through darkness and insanity, finding rationale on the other side we curse with profanity.

Why are we still here?  Though our Christ is near, let us not fear, what we cannot see or hear.

Heart be thou still!  Heark I hear an angel.  She lifts me up, and I find the will. 

The will to carry on, my soul rejoiceth!

Like a bright new dawn, I step out into this brave new world with courage. 

What a place that has such people in it. 

Bomb after blast, all turns to ash.  White ash, I’m gone in a flash. 

Gone where to I don’t know, yet still, the winds doth blow.