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 youn 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 realn 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.
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