Angulimala's Road
Bloody-handed
We take up our swords and shields
We take up our arrows and quivers
And even now with a chance to
Bring light to the world
We turn villages into non-villages
We turn towns into non-towns
Thinking we're standing still
That everything else is moving
But bloody-handed
We are not still
Each of us wears a garland
Of severed fingers
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