Friction

[Skye:] Locked in a cell for your very last breath How can it be that, This is your death Something is stirring, way underneath As people ignite the last burning wreath Friction is turning to fire Friction is burning much higher Men in high places Can't understand How to end trouble in this broken land They have no idea and no feelings for love Just send in the dogs and they stand well above Friction is turning to fire Friction is burning much higher