We kill to confine.
This bruise colored life's just a sacrifice.
Ten days,
nine nights of martial law pulling its last straw.
They're lying face down as the fighting news bleeds.
One foot forward like typing out with no return.
Arrows point to Kwangju but no exits exist
and Yun Sang Won is just a still life
hanging inside Provincial Hall.
It's an internal conflict with no outside assistance
as U.S. ships stand witness offshore.
We'll sing these songs because they're all we know.
Woken to noise, we have yet to sleep.