The storm

Making a living has a way of killing men
The lungs keep breathing but the soul suffocates within
There is nothing new under the sun, it's all the same
Need a revival 'cause survival's a losing game

Am I fighting the good fight? Am I on the run?
I'm not chasing vanity, I'm doing what needs to be done

Men in stories have something to conquer
A woman to fight for, a war to be waged
We were born for the storm, to risk all and rebel
To live hard and die well is why we were made

I've seen an evil that overcomes us all
Packs of good and wicked men are both against the wall
What then shall we do when we are destined for the dust?
Dig our feet into the earth and roll them sleeves up

No matter our station, wages, or trade
Our labour is loving, it's a worthy way to spend all our days

Men in stories have something to conquer
A woman to fight for, a war to be waged
We were born for the storm, to risk all and rebel
To live hard and die well is why we were made

This life's a vapour that quickly escapes
My love, my hate, my memory will soon be erased
So let's breathe in this vapour and drink this sea dry
Doing that greatly 'til our last day arrives

Men in stories have something to conquer
A woman to fight for, a war to be waged
We were born for the storm, to risk all and rebel
To live hard and die well is why we were made