Give dust to life, give life to dust. Crusades, alloyed in the void I am torn, I am born. Crusades, ruderal roots, telluric shoots in cahoots, making life out of death chthonic breath, meristem jubilee.

I am free so I rise from debris, other seeds who are weak need a spur so I speak every word like a burr. So hoist my voice and rejoice just a spark from the dark ignites a thousand to march. So we embark on a drive to split from the stem, divide out of the clade, a parade to invade.
Crusades, glory to grow as part of a whole.
Crusades, we are roots, we are soil, we are leaves, we are souls. Crusades, broad canopy from the tree, a decree blazon to the world, we were born to press on. Blank the sky with our kind, make the branches align, sing the spores to the throng, fill the fields with our song. We are bright in our blight, full of poison and pomp molded as one we will outshine the sun, spread like vines as we climb knots that can't be undone, the crusade has begun. Turn the many to one, crusades. Crusades, let the blind be led by the dumb.
Crusades, the Philistines are at the gate. Crusades, let the brave lie down on their swords. Crusades, the devoted unleash their wrath, one ant is no ant no branch is a tree. Crusades, just a part of the plant I give up to be free. Crusades, rejoice in the life that I gave to a wave of likes that will die and behave all the same to populate the terrain until evolved and refined. Fall from the crown, I will rot on the ground. Left by the march that moves on as the sound from their step fades. Alone for a purpose, I'm placed born again in new roots that will rise from my waste. We died and then were born again.