The air has turned cold and the evening is dark
But a flame has been kindled, a fire has begun.
The wood becomes hot and soon turns to powder
But the ground, it is scorched; the fire leaves a mark.
And we know that it doesn't take much for a spark
To fashion a passion in the heart of a guy.
And we can remember a fellow named Fawkes
Who planned for his bite to be worse than his bark.
A disillusioned and desperate man, for a lark,
Turned terrorist and aimed for those in command.
But chaos cannot answer and Fawkes was found out,
So Remember Remember this night, this night.
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