The story's told of the days of old, and the fabled bird, the phoenix.The bird was killed, and its wings were stilled in a fire that burned with fury.The flames grew cold, and the bird of gold then arose from the burn of ashes.Rose to the sky, there to circle high, forever and ever after.So the story's told of those days of old, and that fabled bird, the phoenix.And now once again, oh yes, once again, once again that fabled story.For freedom's pride men are crucified on a burning cross of hatred.All flames may kill, yet more men will arise, arise for freedom.
