Who are these children coming down, coming down
Like gentle rain though darken skies
With glory trailing from their feet as they go
And endless promise in their eyes!
Who are these young ones growing tall, growing tall
Like silver trees against the storm
Who will not bend with the wind or the change
But stand to fight the world alone!
These are the few, the warriors
Saved for Saturday, to come
The last day of the world
These are they, on Saturday
These are the strong, the warriors
Rising in the might to win
The battle raging in
The hearts of men, on Saturday
Strangers from a realm of light
Who have forgotten all
The memory of their former life
The purpose of their call
And so they must learn why they're here
And who they really are
They must learn why they're here
And who they are!
These are the few, the warriors
Saved for Saturday, to come
The last day of the world
These are they, on Saturday