Weary yearning- Tennessee guillotines. Whiskey soaked, charcoal sweet, humid rage of freedom through the hills. Can you hear the spectral protest of their footfalls through the hills..? We're lonely in our southern lands. Uphill, forever uphill chained to holy ignorance, bequeathed pastoral promises. "Live and die, away, away, away... deceived despair down south in Dixie." Sweat and tears drain into the Cumberland, buried under weight of such countless crimes of hate. Corrupted undertakers, jingoistic, crooning hymnals drenched in blood. Our blood. Even so, we dream, we march. We howl. 'Til our fury floods the valley, drowning tyrants in their sins. 'Til our flames make ash of pulpits. 'Til their prejucide decays.