I look around to see that a cohort that grew up just behind me, one that I always thought of as children, has taken a pretty comfortable seat in their adulthood. Not only that, but their fiery youth has tempered, and they strike me as a fairly responsible set—at least the ones that I interact with in my day-to-day life.
Behind them somewhere, rabble rousers are still rousing rabble, and I look to them with perplexed curiosity. I consider them in comparison to my own peers, who shouted with impotent urgency at the heavens (I did this until my throat quite literally bled). Have we already fought our battles? What did we fight for? Did we win? No, obviously we didn't. The "Only Children of the Last Days of Earth" are the rabble rousers over the next horizon, or the horizon after that, or the one after that. They are the ones who finally win.
lyrics
Been looking back there
To the start of it all
The land was empty
And our thinking was small
I hid my fingers
In a fist in my rage
Swung at a giant
I was bleeding for days
I'd never fought a holy war
I'd never set a fire around belief
I'd never seen the stars before
I'd never known the way I should be
Looking out there
At the fate of the world
The smoldering embers
Of invectives we hurled
We'll run for cover
We can live out our days
The water's cleansing
But the mark always stays
I'll never cast a stone again
I ain't never gonna leave my post
I'll whisper to you now and then
I'll never be see a holy ghost
Only children
Of the last days of earth
Your words are startling
And your art is your worth
You hide your fingers
In a fist in your rage
You swing at giants
and they all run away
You'd never fight a holy war
You wouldn't set a fire around belief
You don't look to prophets anymore
You don't ask about the way you should be