a fading photo on a wooden shelf  sneering in your face  unlike the memory of the little boy  from what you call "the good old days"  the bitter taste of fall the smell of wet concrete walls  and still you count the cries at night you try to analyse  the solar serpent shines  reforms the shadows of the past  and evermore the torment lasts  the solar serpent shines  you traced the contours of a union  where only greed survives  convicted by the mass  you kept your course  with head held high the victims at your feet  the mission must proceed  there is a higher cause  you said afraid to understand  the solar serpent shines  reforms the shadows of the past  eternally the cross will burn  the solar serpent shines  alone again  but yet not quite so sure  watch it coming