They're hiding behind all the walls that they will breaknThey're dying on their swords, because there seems to be no escapenAll these loyal soldiers they keep marching onnTo the beat of a drum that has been playing for far too longnnThey're praying to their god just like the enemynNow whoever is on the losing end will start to question their beliefsnCause we're looking for a savior in this time of warnWell is he coming or are we going, and just what are we fighting for?nnI hear the bullets flynI hear the rivers running drynI hear the sound of drumsnI hear the sound of what's to comennAnd when a dreamer diesnIt's the price they paid to keep it alivenI hear the sound of lovenI hear the sound of what's to come