The wind blows past a grave unkempt so calm
A forgot hero rests here below but
Also above the highest peak we climb
The savior of our kind, vain’d in Tannenbaum
Who took the whips of our iniquities.
And died a death foreseen by us who wept
We that weep now years hence Anno Domini
Joy of His untimely death for the damned
That we who accept the reigns of our sin
And flee away from this garrison built
By our ancestors long gone hands dirty
Of their mistakes and choices made permanently
Inscribed in history, an eternity
But now we need to see what really counts
That this time of uncertainty is met
With truth and love unchallenged by hate’s lies
The wind blows past the grave, but who, who cries?