Jim David Morris Biography

In the bloodiest centuries
Lie every mans shattered memories
Dying men flooded fields with loneliness
When the odds were slim they were not hopeless
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My world is lonely and gruesome
There is no doubt my mind is full of confusion
Do I lay here and weep for a better day
I'm gasping for another say
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Marching with Metal Madness
Within the Abyssal vastness
Sightseers' thrashing around
Blood reigning on the burial ground
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Set sail across the unknown waters searching for another land
White man was his name and his discovery was unplanned
His find in iron grip, discovered a red man
Both not knowing what, knowing who, mistaken for India
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In a world where seeds bloom for blind reasons
For the destination is not yet chosen, alive with no freedoms
From his slumber he's been unspoken, vision distorted by thee omen
For he hears not what they say or he'll awaken, when he does he'll have spoken
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