Twist the chain and wash the floor.
Listen for the coming grumble,
From the lies that soon will crumble.
Truth that hides in the waiting dark,
Secretly begs for freedom’s lark.
Never will they find the words,
As haunted eyes fill with hope stirred.
Quick as shadow slick as blade,
I must hide ’till start of day.
Never look back beyond the door,
Our secret-keeping low upon the floor.
Never to speak ill again,
We have caught the in your sin.
Now let the burning begin.