An Amoeba Named Jake
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"

The drone, the whistle, the thunderous sound
It seared their eyes, it shook the ground
One hundred thousand voices lift
While ashes like dirty snowfall drift
The clouds of purple glowing gas
The tiny sun is rising fast
Your star is on the rise

God scared us more than you’ll ever know
Fire on high, and fire below.

"
— On the Rise by Frontliner