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Thrice - Disarmed Lyrics

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  • 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.
  • Now that you have been disarmed,
  • We will cross over unharmed.

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