We are the dead alive,
the dead seen in your faces,
the dead resurrected.
We are those who were
and who will become.
We are history,
and to know us
is to know who you are.
You think you are old,
but we say you are
older than you think,
for you are ancient.
Listen to us.
Raise the dead.
We know you.
You are the truth come true .
Call upon us -
you will never be alone.
Do you feel
the fires of freedom?
Then let your heart flame
highly to the heavens,
to cast its liberating light
on the worldly signs below,
that others may find the way.
In the fierce heat,
you will find our voice,
your precious voice
of Love singing the song
that weaves eternity.
Welcome the fire
coursing in your veins.
Be the rhythm of your heart
pumping liberty.
Let the hand
that records your passion,
be the loving hand
that plucked Shelley's heart
from the crematory,
and carried it back to England
in its little casket to Mary,
where she remembered his advice:
Follow your Heart.
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