We are the voice of the few The wearied left unspoken We are the old and the new The beaten and the broken We are the sad and the scorn The spectre in the closet We are the unwanted born The reaper at the doorstep We're the pain you feel inside The heartless, the never ending We're the ones you cast aside, the restless We are the ones on the run The legion of the fallen We are the second to none The risen from the calling Destined to fall, bringer of plague Constantly haunted by thy game Misunderstood, wounded and sore Scattered and beaten down right to the core We are the heroes of none The soldiers of misfortune We are the wars never won The platoon of the tortured We are the itch in your brain The scratch mark in your heart We are the perfectly sane The ones you tear apart We are the lost without a name We are the outcasts, all the same