---

The last eyes to see

The sun on the horizon

The last ears to hear

The morning birds' call

Standing

Over mountains of bones

Sweltering in smoulder

Rising from a putrid flame

The last skin to feel

The morning air chill

The last hands to touch

The ruined land below

Standing

Over mountains of bones

Sweltering in smoulder

Rising from a putrid flame

Thick clouds block the horizon

The birds have long since gone

Cold winds are a distant dream

The Land is flame and ash

The last lungs to breathe

A sulphurous burning air

The last tongue to taste

The harvest we've sown

Standing

Over mountains of bones

Sweltering in smoulder

Rising from a putrid flame