There is a knock at the door.
Here to remind me, we are all in a bloody war.
The end is near.
I can feel it down to my core.
From the rich, to the poor.
We must help relieve the grief and soak up the gore.
The enemy is raging around like a wild boar.
Inside of me, there is a deep need to do more.
Sometimes the battle is a deafening roar.
Remember, we are all on our tour.
Your's and mine, mine and your's.
I feel the winds pick up from every four.
We must, and will soar.
Why? because our Victor is not a mythical tale.
Nor a well known folklore.
He is Immanuel, the Saviour.
The one and only, perfect Troubadour.
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