Commanders Of The Fleet

Assault On The Psyche

Born of a systematic scheme,
Clear skies rusting the chains of confinement.

Carefully taken from a labourous life,
To once again walk unshackled.
For time has yet to come and whisk you away.

Chorus:
Territoriality,
Fused with the need for a choice.
Come within inches of losing your grasp,
The time of unrest has come.

Broken glass on the ground.
The time of unrest has come.
Born of a systematic scheme,
A vigil of hills and valleys below.

Chorus

Commanders Of The Fleet,
Open the assault on the psyche.
A vigil of hills and valleys below,
The barrier guarding what the mind must not know.

Born of a systematic scheme...
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