Disarmed - Thrice

We were sons of insurrection

Doomed to face the dark alone

Till vicarious perfection

Dearly won, was made our own

So where’s your landslide, where’s your victory?

Tell me now, where’s your sting?

Unassailable you waited, the great enemy of man

Till your awful jaws were sated

And we were ransomed from your hand

So where’s your landslide, where’s your victory?

Tell me now, where’s your sting?

Now that you have been disarmed

We will cross over unharmed