You've been waiting, you're not alone, beautiful angels! I've been waiting to come full circle, I'm not alone, beautiful angels! Enough of this godawful abuse of children, of our sisters and brothers, father's and mothers! We should all be rising up and screaming! Enough abuse by those yellowed and broken from their own selfish scheming! It's on the cusp, riding to the peak of exactness and we're beginning to roar as we enter in! Live, love, laugh! Say the risen ones! (Steady your legs!) Begin! Begin! The church is broken, weighted down by chords of gold, so We thought we'd let exactness speak! The truth's been breaking free from the rigid spirit's hold on you and me! Fear's breaking into manageable shards of the stale shadows of ancient lies! Our wings are rising, we shall not be denied! Don't change the channel, turn off that damnable tv and get on (H)eartH's wavelength of the coming revolution! Boom Boom...
(The Weaver's Song)