The fire died, but I remain, a shadow walking through the flame. No gods above, no hands below, just the world I used to know. And in the dark, I heard the call — not salvation, nothing at all. We are the ones who stand, when the light has left the land. We burn, we fall, we rise — with ashes in our hands. We are the ones who stand, we are the last command. No faith, no throne, no plan — we are, we are — the ones who stand. The sky forgot the sound of dawn, the ground remembers what we’ve done. Our names erased by shifting sand, but still we breathe, still we stand. No mercy left, no promise true, we live because we have to. We are the ones who stand, when the light has left the land. We burn, we fall, we rise — with ashes in our hands. We are the ones who stand, we are the last command. No faith, no throne, no plan — we are, we are — the ones who stand. We are... we are... the ones who stand. We are the ones who stand, “Still we stand... still we stand...” No dawn, no end — the sky is blind. The fire sleeps, but not my mind. I walk the edge and feel no pain, I live, I breathe, I stand again. We are the ones who stand, we are the last command. No faith, no throne, no plan — we are, we are — the ones who stand. We burn, we fall, we rise — with ashes in our hands. We are the ones who stand, we are the last command. No faith, no throne, no plan — we are, we are — the ones who stand. we are, we are — the ones who stand. We are... we are... the ones who stand.
