Silicone Boone Mars
From the wilds we gazed
Saw your arched back
Your lands parched and cracked
We fashioned our swords, our guns, our shells
A single blood drop
A fallen war god
Glistening red, we saw ourselves
O the arc
Of golden warheads beat
From silver plowshares we
Turned beast to bone in the battering fields
Yeah you're muscled and fine but
Your cold, crimson eye cuts
All to the grave and we draw near
Red the moon will turn
Red the sun will burn
May your side break wide and flood the curse
The automate blade
Is strapped to an infant
She's crawling the distance
Back down to dust with the strength of the meek
A single blood drop
A fallen war god
Dying is bitter but rising's so sweet
Red the moon will turn
Red the sun will burn
May your side break wide and flood the curse
Across the naked plains
We come to trade our ways
And go down, down like seeds to die and turn
We trade in our wars let
The curse be the cure we
Pick up all our seed off the threshing floor
We trade in our wars let
The curse be the cure we
Sow seeds of peace 'cross your red fields of ore
Red the moon will turn
Red the sun will burn
May your side break wide and flood the curse
Across the naked plains
We've come to trade our ways
And go down, down like seed to die and turn