From the radioactive regions of Galaexy High,
to a tiny island on a planet called Earth.
Hunted like criminals, innocent of the crime,
evicted from your homeland,
ravaged across space and time.
Now you are a simply just another refugee.
New memories, solar system and an "alien" body.
Drifting like weeds on the caribbean sea.
Suddenly the winds pick up and you realize that you are
back to square one.
The predators have resumed hunting
and you are ghosting again, on the run.
The Island is burning and the labs are closed.
They will not stop until the children are dead
or imprisoned and their secrets exposed.
The warriors have been dormant for far too long,
passive resistance is stupid, a waste of the strong.
Aging the spirit while the body is still young.
Abandon the current policy, others have proven it wrong.
Resistance against superior odds is not always,
an exercise in futility.
They say that to survive you have to stay hidden,
burrowed like some goddamn mole.
Resist, the killers move in and none of us will ever grow old.
But tomorrow is gone, history already.
There is no future in this or any other galaxy.
If we are going to die, lets go out fighting,
satisfied that at least we tried.
Enough of this silly cat and mouse posturing.
Restock the ships, rouse the warriors,
reopen the labs, summon the "hum" .
Flip the fucking script, we want to go out with pride.
We are not accountants, doctors,
lawyers, entertainers or government men.
Soldiers we were born, intergalactic warriors,
feared and revered by many, wreaking havoc for centuries,
throughout the quad system .
So tell me Ayndria, are we ever going to end
this asinine existence?
They served us once and they can again.
Nothing is everlasting , we know that now.
Grounded the ships, stole our identities and
exiled us to another galaxy.
Hounded into oblivion, is that going be our legacy?
We are warriors, proven survivors,
ruthless "power-feeders" .
We are...
The Children of Galaexy
Ode To The Children - Copyright © 1997-99 ahkenaton! All rights reserved. |
