This is, the song, make it right, make it wrong.
This is one time, one place,
I paint a mask to fit my face,
in a world replaced by a false disease
can it be that we are saved by grace?
People walk in front of a T.V. store an
evangelisth tries to save the poor,
not from poverty but from "etarnal pain"
every dollar spent to help his gain.
Mislead by the truth,
yelling man in a telephone booth.
This is the place we can't define,
this is the place
unscathed by time
this is the place where people hide,
this is the place where I reside.
We build to destroy,
a mind is used to erect and deploy
the millions who follow
their souls are empty hollow
imageine the fear that comforts thousands
over here and over there...
Termination breeds no terror
sirens in the air
smoke fills the bottomless void
shooting draws the paranoid
conversation end with a shot
communication lines tied in knots
we try and try and try for what?
This is the Earth,
one death one Birth
this is the palce where we find
to explain the pace of our disgrace
this is?, not this is.!!
Too many years endless and fears blined by the trust to beat the fears
wake up roll over bleeding
from the sholder
a nation growing older
unstressed by whispers and hatred
Winter is colder.
genocide condemed by moral suicide.
This is, this is, and so is this!
Last edited by Darth Groovy; 12-01-2002 at 05:44 PM.